Sacred Promises - Malicious Lies
by MissjudyK
Summary: Adam says, "No more games!" as he's found in The Crucible. His repeating those particular words made me think he was trying to tell his father something he would understand. This prequel (bumpered by Adam's thoughts in the final Crucible Scene) lays out an incident from childhood that had been his first proving ground with a madman's malicious games.


**Sacred Promises / Malicious Games**

**Prologue – 1862**

**The Testing of Adam Cartwright**

Adam stopped and stretched against the handles and neck piece of the jury-rigged travois. He'd lost track of how long he'd been walking through the endless seared terrain, pulling a dead man. Time was not on his side anyway.

For two weeks it had been Peter Kane's crazy games that had lain heavy on his back: now it was his corpse. It hadn't surprised him that Kane had died so soon. The scant water and food the crazy man had hidden away hadn't done much to hydrate or nourish two starving men. Adam had known from the outset that he wouldn't make it far unless he was "lucky" enough to stumble onto water or flag down a passing traveler—and his luck wasn't going so well lately. He'd left the camp because he refused to let Kane's rocky, dead pit become his grave, not because he hoped to get somewhere.

What had haunted him through every inch of progress he'd made, was that there had been no sense in what had happened after he'd left East Gate. After the thieves had abandoned him with no way to survive the blazing heat, he'd spotted Kane's camp and thought he might make it home after all. But instead of finding sanctuary, he'd been plunged into a testing ground far worse than anything he'd experienced before—a journey into hell that had gotten worse each day—making him wish he'd succumbed to the heat and dehydration before he'd ever looked over that canyon edge. For a man who based his life on a reasoned, rational approach to circumstances, the only value Adam could see in what he'd endured, was that he'd remained alive long enough to get away. And even that had been complicated by Kane's renewed challenge to his decency and integrity.

Little Joe's voice whispered to him. "I told you big brother, Obadiah Johnson might have had a good reason to kill. Maybe a man can be pushed too far." Adam now knew that if there was "justifiable homicide," he'd just lived through the circumstances to prove it. In fact it had become a matter of self-defense by the end, and yet he hadn't been able to wrap his reasoning around that either. It wasn't that he didn't want to defend himself; he couldn't understand why he'd been put into the position where he had to.

_Why the games_? The repeated question had become the cadence for his steps, but the rhythm was slowing now, and the question had been reduced to, "Why?" He went through the series of questions that kept his mind spinning. _Why didn't you tell me I was a pompous buffoon if you didn't agree with what I had to say? Why seem rational and welcoming, while planning to drive me into the ground? What sort of sick pleasure did that bring you? _

Adam could accept that someone who had risked everything; had worked toward an outcome for so many years as Kane had, only to find that it had all been in vain, might resent another person…or family who had triumphed while on a similar quest. But this was more. It didn't matter that the Cartwrights had risked just as much or worked even harder. _You wanted to punish me for my success as much as to make me pay for your failure. _

"You needed to humiliate me…to break me—for what purpose—to prove that you were a better man? Would that have been enough for you?" Adam hissed over his shoulder at the earthy part of Peter Kane. "Did you really hope to prove something, or did you just want to make me as miserable as you were?"

As he trudged on, he tried again to apply reason where none existed. _At least the gunmen only wanted my possessions_, he thought as he stopped and angled himself to see Kane's deteriorating body. _I was simply an inconvenience to them. You were less honorable. You wanted my character to be ripped from me and crushed like the rubble I carried from your mine. You wanted to stand over me and declare that I was a fraud. You wanted to leave me a shell of a man, questioning my every move; every thought; every motive. You…wanted my soul!_ He sighed as he arched his back again, trying to relieve the constant pull across his shoulders. "Stupid games!" he shouted as loudly as his dry throat would allow.

His thoughts moved to his family as they had frequently done in his ordeal. _Where are you all now? _His father and brothers had been nearby while he'd been burning in hell. He'd heard them calling his name. He'd tried to get to them, but Kane had caught up, and it had taken all the restraint he could muster not to scream for them. Deep inside he'd known that Kane would have picked them off like birds on a fence had they come for him. _Then you would have said it was my fault that they died_. The corners of his mouth turned upward in a brief, satisfied smile_. I didn't give you that. _Casting another quick glance over his shoulder, he wondered, _I don't know why we were put together, Kane, but it seems we're in a death match that neither of us will win_.

_I'm sure you're on your way home by now, Pa, _he thought as he pictured his father's face. _And I'm sure you didn't want to leave me behind in this vast cemetery._ He leaned into his step with a groan, overcoming the travois' inertia. The only reason he kept dragging Kane with him was because he knew if he expended the energy necessary to bury him, he'd be too exhausted to go further. His values, even though questioned and disparaged by Kane, would not allow him to leave the body behind without seeing to it. In fact, he rationalized that even though the corpse-laden travois was heavy, it gave him a sort of counter balance, keeping him from falling on his face.

A memory that had been on the fringes of his mind the entire time with Kane, made another appearance as he thought back to the first time he been exposed to the game playing of an evil-minded man. His first experience had happened 20 years ago when he was 12, and he'd left home after a misunderstanding with his father over Marie. He couldn't have foreseen the two tortured days he'd spent back then either, and he couldn't help but wonder if Levi had just been the opening act for Peter Kane…

**1842**

**Part One – Sacred Promises**

**Chapter One**

**Under Cover**

"I'm hot," five-year-old Hoss said softly to his brother.

"Shhh," Adam whispered back as he lifted the bedcovers a few times, creating a breeze to help cool the youngster. "You're such a Sweaty Freddy, Hoss," he giggled as he brushed against the younger boy's moist hand while fanning him. "Be patient. Once Mrs. Fanon turns in, I'll pull the quilt and blanket down."

"Why's she so mean to make us sleep with so much stuff on us anyhow?" Hoss moaned plaintively.

"Hush now," Adam hissed sternly into the boy's ear. "If she hears us talking, she'll come and tuck everything back in again and you'll be even hotter." With the dim lamp light peeking between the boards in the bedroom door, and moon coming through the small window, he could see Hoss's face puckering up, and he knew what was coming.

"I miss Pa," the little boy confessed, as his bottom lip began to tremble.

The older boy understood exactly how Hoss felt. He missed his father too, but there was nothing either of them could do to hurry his homecoming. Their father had left them with Mrs. Fanon over a year ago when he'd headed to New Orleans. Adam tried not to think about how long it had been, but it had become increasingly hard not to.

But now wasn't the time to allow _his_ fears to surface, especially since if his little brother got himself too worked up, they'd never get cooler…or to sleep. To forestall Hoss's tears, Adam rolled over and dabbed away the sweat on the boy's cheeks and neck with a corner of the sheet, and pushed the covers down to expose a little more of the child's torso to the air. As he rolled up Hoss's sleeves, he soothed him as he did each night. "Pa will be home any day now. And you like Mrs. Fanon, so you know she isn't being mean. I've told you before that she's afraid because she heard a story from someone at the trading post a couple of weeks back about a man who was feeling just fine when he went to bed, but he was so tired that he fell asleep on top of the covers and was sick when he woke up."

"I s'pose we should keep the covers on, then." The little boy's voice was small and hopeless.

"Nah. We're okay. It's been so hot lately that I think we'd be more likely to get sick if we leave the covers on. What Mrs. Fanon heard was something called an 'old wives' tale.'"

"Mrs. Fanon _is_ pretty old," the youngster whispered with conviction.

Adam rolled his eyes in the dark and sighed. "That doesn't mean _she's_ old. An old wives' tale just means that someone saw something happen once, and they decided it meant something that it really didn't. That man was probably sick anyway. The amount of covers didn't have anything to do with anything."

"Why'd you tell me all that if it don't explain why we have to sleep with a quilt and blanket in August?"

"I, uh, I…" he stammered. "Well, I guess I'm telling you that she wants us to be warm so we don't get sick…but we won't, so we can cool off as soon as she goes to bed. I'll get up early and pull the covers back up before she comes to get us like I've been doing, so she won't think we're being disrespectful." He added encouragingly, "I bet this hot spell will break soon, and then we'll be glad for the covers again."

Their bedroom door opened a crack as the woman in question stuck her head in. "You boys get to sleep now. No more whispering." The door began to close again but then reopened. "Are you two warm enough?"

"Yes ma'am!" Hoss hollered.

"We're fine, thank you," Adam added, hoping to keep her from coming in to check further. Once she'd left, and he heard her footsteps heading toward the side of the small cabin where she slept, he got up quietly and pulled back everything but the sheet.

As Adam crawled back into bed, Hoss sat up and hugged him around the waist. They both tumbled down onto the straw mattress while the younger brother said. "Thanks, Adam. You done kept me from roastin' to death."

"Shhh!" He made the youngster settle back down, tucked the sheet around him, and then kissed the top of Hoss's head as his father always had. "No more complaining now; go to sleep."

The Cartwright brothers had come to live with Thelma Fanon when Ben had left to sell the pelts that he and the boys had trapped during the previous year. Fur had been the Cartwright family's main source of income from the time they'd arrived in Washoe area in the foothills of the Sierras. But this last, large sale would bring their trapping business to an end, and provide the money Ben needed to add more land and cattle to his holdings, so he could be a full-time rancher. He'd promised his sons that their lives would change when he returned—that there'd be no more living in lean-tos along trap lines, or being packed together in a one-room cabin over the winter months. He'd sealed his promise by hiring on trappers he'd met at the trading post and had convinced to give up their itinerant lifestyle, and come to work for him. These men were tending the cattle the Cartwrights already had, and building a small, but permanent house and barn that would be done by the time he returned. Ben knew that he and his boys would outgrow this house quickly, but it was as much as he could afford for now.

Ben's pledge had excited his sons at first. Adam especially had liked the idea of having a real home, and not having to skin animals anymore. But his enthusiasm had waned when he'd learned how long their father had to be gone to accomplish his goal. When Adam had suggested that his father sell their bounty at trading posts as he'd done before, Ben had told him that his decision to go to New Orleans had been prompted by something far more important than money.

Jean DeMarigny had been one of the first workhands Ben had brought on as he'd acquired acreage and a few steers. The two men had worked side-by-side trying to get a toehold in the land Ben had decided was to be his future. But Jean had given his life to ensure that the father of two young boys lived. In his last breaths, DeMarigny had asked his friend to get word of his death to his mother, and his wife, Marie, back in Louisiana, and Ben had vowed that he would.

At ten-years-old, Adam had understood the danger in his fathers' plan to sail south around Cape Horn, and then up into the Gulf of Mexico to reach New Orleans. He had heard stories from the earth-bound old swabs in their wagon caravans: the ones who had given up the sea to sail wheeled-schooners west in search of land. They had loved recounting the treacherous conditions, and the months involved in such a voyage. Adam had known that the sea swallowed ships without caring whether one of the passengers aboard might have children waiting for his return. The stark fact was that even if all went well, his pa would be gone more than a year. The absence would stretch on much longer if there were delays.

It hadn't been like Adam to beg, but he _had_ begged his father not to go. After being with him every day of his life, the thought of being apart for that length of time had ripped at the boy's heart in ways he hadn't been able to explain.

In response to Adam's pleas, Ben had reminded his son that some promises were sacred, and couldn't be set aside because they were inconvenient. He'd added that it would benefit all of them to sell to Parisian buyers in New Orleans who would pay top prices for fine fur. Then he'd given his son a sacred promise as well: that he would return.

**Two**

**The Widow, Thelma Fanon**

Thelma stretched as she awoke when the early morning sunshine began to filter through the closed shutters. She groaned softly as she pushed her covers to the side, and sat up while dabbing perspiration from her face with the sleeve of her nightgown. The hot, lethargic days of August had hit harder than they had in years, and the small cabin had remained oppressively hot through the night. It had been like this for several days, and had made for fitful sleep as she'd struggled to stay comfortable. She padded quietly to the door of the tiny room where the Cartwright boys slept, and peeked through the gap between the boards of the door, hoping they were still asleep so she'd have a few private moments to get washed and dressed.

A grin spread across her face as she saw that their covers were pushed off the end of their bed, just as they had been each morning since the beginning of the hot spell. Yet she knew that when she'd come back in a few minutes to "wake" them, they'd both be tucked in under the full weight of the bedding. She wondered why they just didn't tell her that they were too hot but she suspected that their subterfuge had more to do with not wanting to offend her or complain, rather than to pull one over on her.

She had grown to love these two boys in the 15 months they'd been with her. She'd never had children of her own, but she'd been a teacher in Indiana before she'd come west with her husband, so being around youngsters made her feel happier than she'd been in a long time. She and Mitch had wanted to have a good-sized farm, and had heard that it was possible to get a homestead out west for a small investment. The cost they hadn't factored in was the bodily sweat and toil needed for such a venture. The journey had been hard, but trying to cut out a place in the wilderness had been grueling. They'd lived on their land long enough to get their deed, but Mitch had died soon after, when a center-rotted pinion pine had collapsed while he'd tried to cut it down. His death had left her alone without resources, and she'd decided to head back home. The road block in her plan was that all their cash had been used in their "grand endeavor."

The Fanons had met the Cartwrights at the trading post shortly after they'd arrived. The two families had often ended up in town at the same time where they'd share their trials in getting their places going. Ben had been concerned for Thelma after Mitch had died, but he couldn't buy her out because the Fanon property was too far north to conjoin with the Ponderosa. He had helped her send property descriptions to papers back east that catered to Western-bound settlers, and then he'd convinced Slim, from the trading post, to let her work for him, and move into the small cabin his family had vacated when they'd built a larger post with living quarters attached.

It had turned out to be the perfect solution. She'd been working with Slim and tending to Mary, his ailing wife, for a year when Ben had approached her about keeping his boys while he traveled to New Orleans. He'd appealed to her teacher's heart when he said she could work with Adam on his studies, and help Hoss get a good start on his basics while they stayed with her. The payment he offered was generous, and it meant she could leave for Indiana when he returned.

As she washed up in the sticky morning heat, Thelma recalled the day Ben had proposed the plan. If he'd have been any other man, she would have questioned his reasons for leaving his sons behind. But Ben Cartwright was different. You could see his passion for his boys when he spoke. Everything he planned was for their good, and his positive nature was infecting. When he'd promised he'd be home in 18 months, she'd believed him.

She slipped her dress over her head and began buttoning it as a shiver of uncertainty chilled her even in the hot, unmoving air. Ben had said he wanted to be home in a year, but he'd given himself six months extra as a hedge. Thelma was aware of how close it was getting to his ultimate deadline. There was no doubt that the remaining time would pass quickly, and if he wasn't back by then, she would have to move forward on his wishes.

He had made her believe in him, but he was also a realist who hadn't left the future of his children to chance. He'd given her a packet of information that included the name and address of his brother in Ohio—just in case the worst happened. There was money to get her and the boys back East, and a letter for John Cartwright explaining the situation, along with the request for him to raise Adam and Hoss.

Another shiver breathed down the fine hair on the back of her neck as she ticked off the remaining time on a mental calendar. If he wasn't back by November, then she would prepare for a spring departure. That would give Ben a little more time…if the unthinkable hadn't already happened. Thelma's breath came faster, and her heart ached to think of what such a result would mean to her two charges. She knelt to offer her morning prayers, sending her daily request that God keep Ben Cartwright safe and sound, and maybe, God willing, give him a heavenly nudge to encourage him to move faster.

With her prayers delivered, Thelma made enough noise to let Adam and Hoss know she was up. She stirred the fire in the small cook stove and tossed in some kindling, and then slammed the door as she went out for water. When she got back inside she went to the boy's door and swung it open, saying, "Time for you sleepyheads to get moving." As she'd suspected, the two boys were crawling out from under the quilt. She shook her head while hiding a grin, and added, "There's some cool water in the jug outside. Wash up out there, and wear those short-sleeved shirts, and the pants I cut off. It's fixing to be another hot one."

She laughed as Hoss and Adam ran past her in a hurry to get outside to the privy as they shouted their "good mornings" over their shoulders. With them out of the room, she straightened their bed, leaving just the sheet and one blanket, and folded the heavy quilt into the trunk with the other winter bedding. To Thelma's way of thinking, they hadn't been sleeping with the quilt anyway, and since they hadn't gotten sick, she suspected these Cartwright boys were far hardier specimens than the sickly man she'd heard about.

She could hear the boys on the porch when she returned to the kitchen to start breakfast, and she crept to the window to see what they were doing. A smile brushed her lips as she watched Adam pull Hoss's nightshirt over his head. He poured water into the wash basin; wet a cloth, and had his little brother look up at him so he could wash the "sleep seeds," as he called them, from the corner of the boy's eyes. He followed that with a good dose of soap and water to freshen up the youngster's face and other necessary parts. Thelma stepped back, but remained close enough to hear the boys' conversation drift in.

"There, that ought to hold you 'til your Saturday bath," Adam said as he tossed the nightshirt at his brother.

"Adam?"

"Yeah, Hoss?"

"Do you think Pa'll get home today?"

"Maybe so. We'll have to wait and see."

The exchange between the brothers was the same one she heard every morning. She set a heavy, bacon-loaded skillet on the stove to cook, and laughed as Hoss ran by, wrapped in his towel, while hollering, "Don't look, Mrs. Fanon; I'm comin' through," before disappearing into the bedroom.

She pushed the cooked bacon to the side and cracked eggs into the sizzling grease as she thought more about the boys she was caring for. Adam had celebrated two birthdays since he'd been with her. He was twelve now—but he seemed much older. He was a big help around the house; he took care of Hoss during the day, and tended the garden they'd planted. He was a serious boy, but she couldn't say he was sad or brooding. He laughed easily, teased his brother constantly, and never passed up an invitation to do something fun. But she could tell that he was worried about how long his father had been gone, even though he tried not to let Hoss see his anxiety. Evening was the worst time for both boys because it meant another day gone without their father coming home.

The looming quiet of sunset was the reason Thelma had started gathering both boys around the table after dinner for class work. It gave them something to focus on besides their disappointment. Adam excelled in all things educational. He'd gone through all the primary classwork within a few months of coming to stay with her, and he was working on secondary level texts now. He had a talent for math and science, and easily understood concepts that she had seen others struggle with when she'd taught. His demeanor changed when he was studying. His face brightened, and he lost himself in the novels, poetry and history books she had.

The one area he didn't do as well in was writing. His grammar was impeccable, but his words were wooden and mechanical—almost as if he was trying to please her by writing what she wanted to hear. Thelma wondered if his own words, ideas, and feelings would flow once his father was back. She suspected he was holding his emotions so tightly that it was impossible for him to share them in any way. To help with this, she'd begun giving him writing assignments that forced him to tell something about himself, and she had given him a journal for his birthday, suggesting that he take a little time each day to write. She promised that she'd never ask to see those thoughts, and told him to hide it somewhere that neither she nor Hoss would find it.

Hoss, on the other hand, was very verbal about his opinion that he didn't "cotton to all this school stuff." But he had learned his letters and numbers, and he spent his time reading primers and doing simple arithmetic problems while she worked with Adam. The younger Cartwright was a sweet child who'd come to her a toddler, but had grown into a little boy who would soon be six. He loved to play, and the more rough-and-tumble the game, the better he liked it. Hoss was more demonstrative of his feelings, and would often hug her or sit on her lap when he was tired or upset. Yet, he turned to his brother when he was afraid or began to miss his father too much.

She brought her musings about the boys to an end when she saw that the eggs had glazed over to a nice sunny-side up. She wrapped her apron skirt around the skillet handle and nearly dropped it when she turned and saw both boys sitting there, ready for breakfast. "Oh, you're here," she chuckled, as she slipped the fried eggs onto their plates. "I got a little caught up in my own thinking," she confessed, and then laughed as she inspected their remodeled shirts and pants. "I sure hope your Pa remembers to bring along new shoes and clothes for you."

"Me, too, Mrs. Fanon," Hoss agreed. "You won't need to cut off my pants pretty soon. They'll all be as short as these are.

"You're probably right about that, young man." Thelma had watched each of the boys put a couple inches of growth on while they'd been with her. She was 5'5", a good height for a woman, and Adam had passed her by a little already. She wasn't sure how tall Hoss was, but he looked to be the size of an eight-year-old. There were no children's clothes available at the post, so she was adjusting Adam's things for Hoss, and her husband's clothing for Adam. The one thing she couldn't come up with was shoes, and the post didn't carry those either. The Paiute Indians brought skins and leather goods to sell, and she'd been able to get moccasins to fit the boys. The coming winter would be a challenge. One of the Paiute women had showed her fur-lined moccasins that she thought might work, but her hope remained that Ben would be back with more substantial footwear by then.

"I think the garden needs a good drink of water, boys," she said as they ate. "Maybe you can help your brother with that, Hoss. And the chicken coop needs a cleaning. That should keep you busy for the morning."

"Sure thing, Mrs. Fanon," Adam promised. "I can rinse out the laundry you set up last night and hang that up too."

She winked at him. "You're so good to me. I would appreciate that." Thelma leaned forward on the table and said conspiratorially, "When I get done with helping Mary today, I think we should borrow Slim's wagon, and head out to that spring-fed pond. We can do a little fishing and swimming. It's been a long time since we had anything but chicken on this table, and even though it's not bath night, you'll both need a good dunking after cleaning the coop and gardening in this hot weather."

Both boys were staring at her with eyes wide, and small smiles waiting to erupt into big grins. "You mean that, ma'am?" Hoss asked as he started to bounce in his chair.

"I do, Hoss. In fact, I just might dangle my feet in the water myself."

The younger brother let out a whoop that nearly shook the rafters. "C'mon, Adam! Let's go get started on them chores so we're ready to go."

Adam waited until his brother was out of the house before blushing slightly as he said, "I noticed how you made our bed, Mrs. Fanon. Thank you, and I'm sorry if you think we were…"

Thelma interrupted him as she touched his hand. "No apologies, young man. I can be a stubborn woman at times, and have some pretty set ways, but after last night, I took my quilt off too." She shooed him from the house, calling after him, "Make sure those potatoes and other root crops get a good soaking or they'll be bitter."

Adam leaned back on his elbows in the grass, watching Hoss continue to splash in the pond. It felt good to relax after doing chores all morning, and playing with his brother for most of the afternoon. He smiled at the woman sitting next to him as he sat up. "It sure felt good to be in that cool water."

Thelma wrapped her arms around Adam's shoulders and gave him a peck on the cheek. "I suspected that getting away from the house might be a real good thing, and those pan fish you two caught—before your brother started jumping in and scaring them into their hiding holes—will taste mighty fine for supper."

"They sure will," he answered with another smile. "You're a good cook, Mrs. Fanon. My pa can burn fire."

Thelma threw her head back as she laughed. "That's a good one! Did he really burn everything?"

"Pretty much. Pa's impatient, and doesn't like to wait for coals to give a steady heat. He cooks over flames and everything tastes scorched." He grinned and then grimaced as he remembered the meals of blackened meat and eggs. "You get used to it, but…" Adam turned away without finishing his thought.

"You still miss it, I suppose. Not because you like burned food, but because you miss the person doing the burning."

He nodded but still didn't look at her. "Do _you_ think he's coming back, Mrs. Fanon? It's been so long now."

"He gave us his promise, so I know he'll do everything he can to get here." She touched his arm and he looked at her again. "I know you're worried, and I have to admit that I'm getting a bit anxious too. I hear Hoss's question to you every morning, and I see how sad the two of you become each night. But we all need to keep our faith that he'll make it."

Adam nodded again. "Will you keep us with you if he doesn't come back?" he asked softly. "I can probably handle things on my own if we can't stay with you, but I'd like to know so I can plan."

"Bless you, child," she said as she swatted at gnats buzzing around her head. "I will gladly take care of you until your father returns or I can fulfill his wishes."

"He left instructions? I mean, if he doesn't…?"

"Yes, he did. I didn't say anything so as not to worry you about something that would only become necessary if...but since you asked, I'll tell you. If he's not back by this fall, then the three of us will go to your Uncle John's place come spring. Your father mentioned that you'd been there when you were younger."

He shrugged. "I was pretty young, and I don't remember a lot, except that my uncle was nice, and there were other kids to play with." He sat quietly for a minute, before asking, "My grandfather lives in Boston. Did Pa say anything about going there?"

"Ben mentioned him, but said that his brother would be better able to handle two youngsters. He gave me a letter for your uncle, and there's information about your grandfather in there, so you'll have what you need to find him." When the young man made no response, she asked, "Does knowing this make you feel better?"

"Some…but I'd rather Pa just get home."

"Me too, kiddo." Thelma stood and asked, "Do you want to swim a few minutes yet? We'll need to head home soon."

"I'll go clean the fish instead. That way we won't have raccoons coming around the trash at the house."

She ruffled his wavy mop of hair before walking away to get Hoss from the water. _What an amazing child you are, Adam,_ she thought as she sidestepped down the bank to the pond. _That Pa of yours better show up soon. _

Slim was outside waiting for the wagon when the fishermen returned. He took the reins from Thelma once they were stopped, and while unhitching the team, he told her, "One of the men from the Cartwright place came into town today looking for you."

Her eyes flew open, and she noticed that Hoss and Adam's were wide with curiosity too. "Is Ben back?" she asked hopefully.

"No. But he said they was finished with the barn and house now, and even moved in the beds and things from the cabin. Said you and the boys was welcome to move in any time."

Hoss jumped from the wagon, and ran to Thelma, tugging at her skirt. "Can we move home, ma'am? Can we?"

She thanked Slim for the information and turned to Adam. "What about you? Would you like to move into a bigger place too?" Adam's smile was enough answer for her. "I think we should start by going out tomorrow and taking a look at what's there." A worried look pushed away her excitement, as she walked over and took Slim's arm. "What about you and Mary? If we go out there, I won't be able to help the two of you."

"Mary and me was talking about that while you was gone. There's a couple other settlers living near the post now, so I could ask one of those women to help out, and maybe you could spend weekends in town at the cabin, and the rest of the week out at the Cartwright place. Mary's feeling better now, but she'll miss you if you disappear from here completely." He smiled as he winked. "We were thinking such an arrangement might help the time pass more quickly for them boys too."

Thelma grinned widely as she looked at the boys. "That sounds like a pretty good plan to me. C'mon kids, we'll go fry-up those fish, and then get a few things together for our trip to the house tomorrow."

**Three**

**Going Home**

Thelma was up earlier than usual to get the last of the boys' things packed into crates to take along. She was sure they'd be up early too even though they'd all but collapsed into bed the night before. The active day, followed by an evening of planning and a little schoolwork had played them out. Right now, they were still asleep, so she made the most of her time alone.

She'd just finished dressing when there was a light rap on the door that made her jump. She couldn't imagine who would be at her cabin so early, and her thoughts went immediately to her neighbors, praying quickly that Mary hadn't taken a turn. She opened the door a crack without looking out and whispered, "Who's there?" She jumped for the second time when she heard the voice outside.

"It's me, Thelma, Ben Cartwright."

Glancing over at the bedroom, she listened for a moment, and then slipped out the door. "Ben," she said softly as she tugged him away from the house. "Let's go off a little so we can talk before waking your sons." As they walked into the yard, she began assailing him with a list of questions. "When did you get back? How was the trip? How are you? You look great!"

Ben chuckled as he grabbed her shoulders. "I'll answer if you let me get a word in." He waited until she took a deep breath and nodded. "First off, how are the boys?"

"Fine, Ben. Growing like weeds and missing you like mad, but they're just fine."

"Did they give you any trouble?"

"Not a lick. They're good children. You're going to be surprised by how different they look."

He took a deep breath, expelling it in a smiling sigh. "I've looked forward to this day for six months out on the trail, but we're home now and it feels so good."

"So you came overland?"

"We got into a caravan leaving Hannibal early in spring. There was a little tough going and bad weather at first, but after that we made it in record time, or so the trail master claimed."

Thelma tipped her head as her eyebrows narrowed. "Who's we, Ben? Did you find someone heading this way to travel with from New Orleans?" Her lips puckered as her brows nearly met when she saw Ben blushing in the early-morning, golden sun.

"We…is my wife and I."

Her quizzical look turned instantly to shock, and then a smile. "Your wife? That must have been some trip." She laughed as she took his hands. "I'm happy for you, Ben. It's lonely out here without someone at your side. What's she like?"

"Marie is a wonderful woman. She's small, but she's a real power to be reckoned with. I can't believe how tough she was during the trip. It was a way of life she'd never known, but it made sense to come that way because we brought as many of her things as we could fit in the wagon to furnish our new place."

"Is she out at the new house? We just heard that it was done, and planned to go check it out today. Now the boys can just go on home. They'll be so excited."

"We got to the ranch last night, and I figured I'd come in early today to pick up the boys. I have to admit; I didn't sleep well, and didn't realize how early it actually must have been when I set out. I came in on horseback, but we'll borrow Slim's wagon to go back. Why don't you come along, and I'll bring you home when I return the buckboard."

"I'd like that very much." She chuckled and grinned at him. "I think I'll enjoy seeing how the boys react to the fact that you're married." Ben was blushing again as she grabbed his arm. "How about we go wake up those rascals."

Ben stood in the doorway watching his sons sleep. Adam was on his back, while Hoss was using his older brother as a pillow. Thelma had left him alone while she started breakfast, telling him that one thing hadn't changed in his absence, and that was Hoss's appetite. She predicted that he'd be overjoyed at seeing his father, but would still need nourishment before they could leave for the house.

He moved quietly toward the bed to take a good look at his children. His first glance revealed that they had changed as much as he'd feared they might. Adam was a young man now. He appeared to be slim and lanky, and his face had lengthened and thinned. He wasn't the cute boy he had left behind. Ben smiled as he realized that young women would soon think his son was "handsome."

It was harder to see Hoss's face, since he was nestled on Adam's stomach. He wasn't chubby, but Ben could tell that he was still sturdily built, and had shot up in height. It left him wondering just how tall this child would get.

When he'd entered the room, he'd intended to roust them and watch their surprise, but changed his mind. He sat next to Adam and shook him gently. "Wake up, son. It's time to go home." He grinned as the boy opened his eyes and then rubbed at them before focusing on his father.

Adam broke into a smile. "I'm not dreaming, am I? Are you really back?"

"I'm really back." Their conversation woke Hoss, who grunted as he sat up and stretched. His eye's popped open when he realized who was on the bed, and he threw himself into his father's arms.

"Pa, you're here! You're really, really here! I was afraid you was never coming back!" His voice rose in pitch as he held onto his father's neck, and his joyful shouts dissolved into tears when he couldn't put any more words to his excitement.

Ben rubbed the boy's back and held him tight. "It's all right, Hoss. I know I've been gone way too long, but I'm home now." He soothed his younger son, while wondering why Adam was so quiet. He hadn't expected as exuberant a response from the older boy, but Adam's face gave no indication as to what he was feeling. "Is everything all right, son?" he asked as he swung Hoss around and sat him on his knee, while he reached out and grasped Adam's hand.

Adam's head bobbed up and down before he exited the far side of the bed, and mumbled, "I just need to go outside," before rushing from the cabin. He ran until he made it to a rock formation he could slip behind without being seen from the house; leaned back against the hard stone and groaned. More than a year of worry, fear, and trying to be strong left his body in a hiccupping sob as he slid down the rock, and sat hugging his knees. The unexpected return had left him excited, but he wasn't a little boy anymore who could crawl on Pa's lap and cry as his brother had. He felt like crying though, and wasn't sure why. After a few minutes, he smiled and relaxed into the calm of knowing that his life would return to what it had been before. His father was home! They could go on…the three of them, working hard and being together…just like it was before.

He took a few more minutes to compose himself, wiping the few hot tears that had trickled down his cheeks on his sleeve. Before leaving his cover, he hiked up his nightshirt and relieved himself on a nearby bush, grinning as he muttered, "Might as well do what I said I was coming out here to do."

Ben carried Hoss into the main part of the cabin after Adam ran off. "What's going on?" he asked Thelma, giving her a puzzled look. "I thought he'd be happy to see me, but he looked…"

"He's very happy to see you, Ben," she replied after sending Hoss to get dressed. "It's just that he's been the strong one while you've been away. He's the one who comforted Hoss, and kept a brave face even while he worried that something could go wrong. In fact he told me just yesterday that he thought he could take care of Hoss alone—with just a 'little' help If you didn't make it back."

The father's eyes closed as sadness drew his face into a deep frown. "I should have realized he'd want to take on all the responsibility. He's always been that way." He sighed deeply. "I'm still not sure why he ran off. Does he hate me for going?"

Thelma moved close enough to speak without Hoss overhearing. "Hate you? Why, Ben, that son of yours idolizes you. If I had to guess why he ran, it's because he really wanted to grab you and cry just like Hoss did, but he thinks he's too grown up to let you see him behave that way." She went to look out the window. "He's on his way back now, so don't you let on that we had this conversation. Follow his lead and everything will be fine."

Adam headed straight for his father when he entered. "It was a good way to wake up this morning…I mean having you here to do it." He looked sheepishly at his hostess. "Not that Mrs. Fanon hasn't been doing a fine job of getting us up the rest of the time."

She patted his cheek. "I told you yesterday that you owe me no apologies. I think you've helped me as much as I've helped you."

"That's good to hear," the proud father stated as he put his arm around Adam's shoulders. "What have you two been up to?"

His son shrugged, but Thelma expounded. "He watched his brother and kept him entertained while I worked or had other chores; he helped keep the place up inside and out, excelled in his school work, and we've been gardening this summer. So far we expect a good return for our efforts."

"The time passed quickly then?" he asked.

Adam laughed for the first time since his father's return. "I wouldn't say that, Pa, but it helped fill the time. Mrs. Fanon's been very good to us."

"She sure has been," Hoss added to the compliment as he exited the bedroom in his ragtag outfit and moccasins.

Ben laughed as he inspected the short pants. "Those look comfortable Hoss, but if that's representative of the rest of your wardrobe, then I suspect we arrived just in time with new clothes and shoes for you two. We picked up several sizes, hoping that you'll have something to fit for now and later."

Adam turned toward Thelma when he heard his father say "we" and gave her a raised eyebrow question.

She winked at him without illuminating the use of the plural, and commanded the group to sit for their breakfast. "The sooner we eat, the sooner we'll all get out to the new house and see your father's surprises."

**Four**

**The Trouble with Surprises, Is That They're…Surprising**

Hoss and Adam pestered their father to tell them what their new house was like as they bounced their way along the wheel-rutted lane that served as a road between town and the Ponderosa homestead. He finally gave in when their excitement bubbled over on seeing the first hazy outlines of the house and barn in the distance, and began a verbal tour of what they could expect. "There's a kitchen area off to the side, and then a good-sized room with a huge fireplace where we can eat and sit in the evening."

"Do we all sleep in there too, like before?" The question came from the youngest of the family.

"You can see how tall it is, Hoss," his father explained as he pointed. "We have two floors in our house, and upstairs there are three small bedrooms, so you'll each have your own." Ben smiled as he saw his sons' reaction to the news. "It's not a big house," he cautioned. "But it will sure beat the way we used to live out here. And someday, we'll put up a house that will be the talk of the territory."

The two children chattered excitedly, until they pulled in the yard, and they saw one surprise that neither of them could have expected: a beautiful, petite, blonde woman standing in the doorway, smiling and waving to them. Adam looked at Hoss who was staring at him with eyes the size of saucers. It was the younger boy who asked in a whisper, "Who's that, and what's she doin' in our house?"

"Your have a wife." Adam said incredulously while helping his father unload the wagon. Thelma and Hoss had gone into to the house with the newcomer after Ben had introduced the woman as, Marie Cartwright…his new wife, and the boys' "new mother." Hoss had been stunned but excited—especially after finding out that the woman would be bunking in with his pa, instead of wanting a bedroom of her own. The youngster had easily held Marie's hand and accepted her hug. In fact, Adam had heard him telling the woman that she sure was "purdy" when they were walking inside. He wasn't sure why he felt as he did, but he had already convicted his brother of treason.

Ben stopped what he was doing, and looked directly at his eldest. "Yes, Adam, I have a wife. She's a very nice woman who's been very anxious to meet you. On the other hand, you barely looked at her. Why do you seem so upset?"

_Upset_? Upset didn't even begin to describe what Adam was feeling. "I thought I was polite. I shook her hand and welcomed her." He shook his head and thought to himself that he should stop there, but his anger was billowing like the ship's sails that taken his father to New Orleans so many months ago. He bit his lip, but then blurted out, "Did you go all the way to New Orleans because you _wanted_ to find a wife?" His voice dropped as he pursed his lips and said sullenly, "It would explain why you were so anxious to go."

The box Ben was holding fell back onto the wagon bed as his eyes bored a hole straight into his son's forehead. "You watch your tone with me. I know you've been the man of the house for a while now, but you will remember that I am back now, and I'm your father, not your equal." His tone softened as he continued. "This was a shock for you...I understand that. It was a shock for me too. I never expected to marry again, but I did. I wish I could have written to give you a little time to get used to the idea, but it wasn't possible. If you give Marie a chance, I know you'll come to love her as I do."

"I'm sorry if I was out of line, Pa." Adam looked down at his newly shod feet. "I'd consider these new boots, a 'surprise.' You bringing back a wife was…well a lot more than a surprise." He sent his father a lopsided smile. "How did you meet her?"

"Her name was Marie DeMarigny…"

Adam's smile turned sour as he interjected, "Jean DeMarigny's widow?" His lips thinned into a smirk. "That's…interesting."

Ben moved in front of his son until he was staring down from the few inches he still had on him. "I will not be judged by my ten-year-old child. Wipe that mocking look from your face."

"I'm not ten anymore," the boy responded, returning his father's steely stare, before looking away. "I had two birthdays since you left to inform the DeMarignys of Jean's death. I can't help it if it seems odd that his widow is now my 'new mother.'"

Ben grabbed Adam's shoulders and pulled him roughly toward him until they were nose-to-nose. "If you ever speak to me like that again, I'll take you over my knee, and you won't sit for a week." He was breathing hard as he asked, "Do you understand me?"

Adam nodded and rubbed his shoulders where his father's hands had been. He stood there without speaking, not knowing what to say. He didn't even know why he'd said what he did. "I'm sorry, Pa," he offered for the second time.

His son looked so worn out by his outburst that Ben took his arm and led him away from the wagon. "Let's go take a look at our barn, and see what's in there." The two of them checked out the stalls and then climbed up to the hayloft and opened the loading door to get a bird's eye view of the world below. The loft was partially filled with loose hay, and Ben pulled his son down next to him in one of the piles. "Seems to me you asked how I met Marie, and I'd like to tell you, if you're willing to listen. I'll be quick or the ladies will be out here looking for us."

A smile from his son indicated he would give his father a chance. Ben began by telling him that Marie had been riding her horse down the street, and how she almost ran him down when he walked in front of her. "She really wanted nothing to do with me at first," he confessed, "but in time, we got to know each other."

"Why didn't she like you?"

"I wasn't sure, but she seemed more sad and careful, than rude. You see, Marie and Jean had separated some time before he came to work for me, and she hadn't seen him for several years. He left New Orleans after something happened in the DeMarigny family, and he never went back. That's why Jean asked me to go in person. He'd given me personal messages for Marie and an old friend of his, and he worried what the news would do to his aged mother if she simply received a letter.

"I don't think Marie trusted me at first. In fact, she found it hard to trust anyone. The DeMarigny family—including Jean, had treated her cruelly and unfairly. She found it impossible to believe that others would treat her any better." He looked over at his son. "I'm leaving out a lot here that you don't need to know, but Marie did come to trust me, and she opened her heart for the first time in a very long while. I'm hoping that she won't ever be treated badly by anyone in the Cartwright family."

"She won't, Pa."

"That's all I ask." He sighed as he nudged Adam's knee, and brought up the subject that he felt might be lying heavy in his son's heart. "My feelings for Marie will never change the deep love I had for Elizabeth or Inger. There's so much about you and Hoss that reminds me of your mothers that I can't possibly forget them."

The four Cartwrights settled into life over the next couple of weeks. Adam knew that Hoss had given his heart to Marie with her first kiss on his dirty cheek, and he had decided that his little brother wasn't as much of a traitor as he thought he was. The kid wanted a mother, and Marie was doing all she could to be that for him. He couldn't resent that.

It was different for Adam who didn't need anyone to mother him. In his opinion, he was well on his way to being a man anyway. He did concede that having a woman in the house was nice. Marie stood up to his pa, and made sure she had time to do schoolwork with the boys each day…even when Ben would bluster about all the work that needed doing before winter. His father was different with Marie there—in a good way. He laughed and smiled more than Adam could remember him doing since Inger died, and Marie got him to relax sometimes too. There had been a few Sunday picnics, and they'd had Mrs. Fanon out for a going away party before she left with a supply caravan heading home.

Marie had brought boxes of books from New Orleans, and Adam was impressed by her knowledge of literature. She told him that she'd been raised in a convent where she'd gotten a good education, and ever since, she had continued to learn by reading everything she could get her hands on. Together they were working their way through Mrs. Fanon's secondary textbooks, and Marie had started teaching him French.

Adam decided that he did _like_ Marie, and he admired many things about her. He was amazed at the way she got his brother to pay attention to his studies. Mrs. Fanon had pulled Hoss through the ABCs and numbers while he'd fought her every step of the way. Marie had a way of easing the child into learning where he didn't even realize he was doing it. His brother would pay close attention as she wove a story, and then she'd make him correctly spell some of the words she'd used, or work arithmetic problems that helped unlock an imaginary door to the next part. There were times when Adam listened to the stories too; hoping Hoss got it right so they'd both get to hear how the tale progressed.

But in spite of the positive adjustments going on, there were times when Adam felt left out of his own family. While his father had been gone, the hope that the three Cartwright men would be together again had become the prize he thought he'd receive for enduring the lonely times. But now there was this fourth person added into Adam's equation. He often wondered if Marie was adjusting into this Cartwright foursome so well that _he_ was becoming the odd man out—the stranger in the house. His father and Hoss had taken this woman into their hearts without question. She only had to flash her smile to get them to do whatever she asked, and his brother now went to her with his questions, fears and needs. When he'd offered to help his little brother recently, he'd been rebuffed by the youngster who'd told him that he wanted "Mama" to do it.

**Five**

**Cartwright vs Cartwright**

Ben pulled their wagon into the yard after the sun had set, and hollered for Adam to come help him unload the last of the hay that he and the hands had collected.

His son exited the house while slipping into his jacket, and laughed. "Wow, Pa, that's quite a load you got on there. Did you lose a lot on the way back?"

"I suppose you could follow a grass trail all the way back to the marsh where we cut this, but I don't think I did too badly." He jumped down and gave Adam a playful punch in the arm. "Did you have supper already? I know I'm late."

"We did, Pa, but Hoss left a little for you."

"My stomach's growling so I'll let you pull the wagon into the barn and start shifting some of this into the storage area, while I go eat. Did your mother keep a plate warm for me?" There was no mistaking his son's painful grimace at his use of the words, "your mother," and Ben grabbed the sleeve of Adam's jacket and pulled him into the barn. "Sit down!" he commanded while lighting the lantern hanging on a hook between stalls.

Adam's mouth dropped into a puzzled frown as he roosted on a tack box. "What's wrong, Pa?"

"That look, Adam. That look is what's wrong."

The boy shook his head from side to side and responded in a rising pitch. "What look are you talking about?"

Ben was pacing, kicking straw and dust up with every step, until he stopped directly in front of the boy. "It's that sour, disdainful look you get on your face whenever I refer to Marie as your mother."

The twelve-year-old sat up straighter, squared his shoulders and met his father's angry glare. "I'm unaware that I have a particular look associated with you calling her that, but the truth is that she's not 'my mother.'"

Ben sighed heavily. "I thought you were coming to like Marie, so why disrespect her by saying that?"

"Is it disrespectful to tell the truth? I do like Marie; she's a very nice woman, but she will never be my mother."

"She's my wife, so she's..." He ended with an exasperate sigh.

"You 'making' her your wife doesn't _make_ her my mother, Pa. I think I've done everything you asked of me. I've been nice to Marie, and I haven't done anything to make her feel unwelcome. I think we're getting along pretty well."

The hard kick Ben gave the tack box made Adam jump, and the angry man saw his son's face change from self-confident to fearful. He kicked himself mentally for his physical display. Threats never worked with Adam, and anger or orders might make him toe the line, but they wouldn't ever change the boy's mind. "What I don't understand is how sometimes when you let yourself, you seem to enjoy being part of this family. But there are other times…"

"I don't know what you mean," Adam replied, inching into the corner. He'd never seen Ben Cartwright this upset, and it frightened him. He ran through what his father had just said about not including himself in the family, and realized that he'd already admitted feeling that way, but he couldn't see that his treatment of Marie was the cause of it.

"Sometimes you and your mother will be working on something when I come in, and I can see that you're having a nice time. You let your guard down and enjoy what Marie has brought to our household. But then other times, I see her try to hug you or give you a goodnight kiss, and you stiffen and get that distasteful look on your face just as you did a few minutes ago. You have to know that she sees that, and it must make her very sad."

"Has she complained about me?"

"Of course she hasn't complained," Ben shouted as his protective feelings for his wife rose. "I don't think she ever complained when people treated her badly."

"I'm not trying to treat her badly, Pa, you've gotta know that. I'm just not used to it. That's all it is; not that I have anything against her, but I'll try to be better."

"Trying isn't enough, son. You will obey me and call her, Mother. It is a sign of respect and will indicate Marie's rightful place in this family."

Adam's eyes glistened as he looked up at his father and shook his head.

Ben's tone softened as he tried another approach. "You didn't have a problem calling Inger that, so why is this so different?"

"I didn't call her mother either, and she understood why. Inger said I could call her Mimi. Kids in Sweden sometimes called their mothers that when they had trouble saying, 'min mor.'" He sent Ben a hopeful smile. "Maybe I can do that with Marie too…find a name that she knows I mean with all respect."

Ben's face turned to stone. "You will call her, Mother, and you will do it without the 'look.'"

Adam's breathing became rapid. "Please, Pa, I can't..." His quiet, "I promised," was drowned out when his father continued his rant.

"I'm sure you 'can!' What you mean is that you 'won't.' I don't know what's wrong with you. You've always had opinions about what you will and won't do, but you've never been unkind or disobedient. This will stop tonight. I will not allow you to disrespect me, or _your mother_, another minute." He rubbed his hands across his face as if mentally wiping away his anger. The next words were calm, but delivered with the full force of will that drove him in all things. "I'm going in now. You will remain here and take care of the hay, as I've asked. When you come in, you will address Marie properly, or go straight to your room and stay there until you _can_."

Adam watched his father turn and stomp away without another word. He slid from the box and stood for a moment before collapsing on his knees and pounding the dirt floor with his fists. _How can you do this, Pa, _he thought_. So much for your belief in keeping solemn promises. I guess it only matters if it's your vow, not mine, and it means you get to go on a long trip and leave us behind. _His thoughts continued as he sat back on his legs and wrapped his arms around himself. _I can't call Marie_ _what you want me to because "my mother" is in the ground back in Boston—never having heard me use the name I promised I'd keep as hers alone. _Looking upward he sent his silent thoughts to another father. _Why didn't you take me instead of her? I just remind Pa that Elizabeth is dead because of me, and now he thinks that unless I dishonor my promise to my real mother, I'll be the ruin of this marriage too. _

He felt like a limp rag as he roused himself to do his chores. With the hay piled in the corner, and the horses and wagons put away, he shook the dried grass and dust from his clothing, washed his hands and face in the bucket outside, and went in.

Ben and Marie were sitting at the table talking when he passed them by without a word, and started up the narrow stairway leading to his room.

"Where are you going in such a hurry, young man?" Marie called with a teasing lilt.

He turned around from halfway up the steps. "I'm going to bed," he said politely, and then added, "Ma'am," for his father's benefit.

He heard his father pound his fist on the table as he flew up the last few steps to his room. His heart was racing as he leaned back against the closed door and took deep breaths to settle himself. Never before had he ever gone against his father's wishes so blatantly, and he knew there would be consequences. He'd worry about that later. Right now he took a moment to consider his position again, and decided it was justified.

"Why are you so upset, Ben?" Marie's head was angled questioningly, with a concerned crease wrinkling her brow.

"He's being rude," he answered while drumming his fingers on the table.

"He may have been a little brusque, but he's a young man with a head full of plans and ideas. I'm sure he was just thinking ahead to one of them when he flew through here."

Ben's terse and loud, "No, he was intentionally being rude," startled his wife. He saw her eyes open wide as the crease in her forehead deepened.

"What's going on?" she asked, moving behind him to drape her arms around his shoulders.'

He patted her hands. "Nothing for you to worry about my dear. I'll take care of it."

Marie withdrew her embrace and walked the length of the room twice before standing at his side. "I don't think Adam was being rude at all. However, I can't say the same of his father." She continued as Ben's face reflected the same questioning qualities hers had a minute ago. "I know that you believed in me when you were in New Orleans, and you got to the bottom of something no one else had the nerve to pursue. You made me believe I was worth fighting for, and promised me a place in your heart, and in this family." She paced the room again. "But what you said right now…that what happens between members of this family is nothing for me to 'worry' about told me exactly where I stand. Jean always told me the same thing when I'd ask about what went on between him and his mother. It's what he said the day he left and never came back. And his mother told me there was nothing to worry about the day she took my baby away."

He went to hold her as tears began to streak down her cheek, but she pushed him away.

"Telling me there's nothing to worry about is the same as telling me to mind my own business, Ben, and I won't have it. I will have your respect in this house or I will go back to New Orleans where there was no pretense over what people thought of me. Life was hard there, but at least I knew where I stood. It was so much easier that way.

Neither Marie nor Ben had heard the bedroom door open at the top of the stairs as they'd argued. Nor did they see Hoss tiptoe out, and duck into his brother's room.

"What's up, little man?" Adam asked from the bed.

"Can I talk to you?" Hoss's voice was timid.

"Come on over," he encouraged as he sat up. "I was just thinking about a few things." Adam could see Hoss's wide eyes and trembling lip. "Did you have a bad dream?"

A shake of the head preceded the boy's tears. "I was playing in my room but I heard them talking loud downstairs, and I listened."

"You know you shouldn't eavesdrop. Pa would have skinned you if he'd caught you."

"I wasn't doin' that. It scared me is all, so I listened to see if they was maybe mad at me." The tears came harder. "I heard Mama say she's goin' home to New'leans."

Adam was suddenly very alert. "Maybe you misheard her. What words did she say?"

"She said that if she didn't get some 'spect, she was going back."

"Did she say, respect?"

The little boy nodded. "Do you know what she's talkin' about, Adam? I don't want her to go."

It had been a while since he had comforted his brother. He pulled the boy onto his lap and soothed him. "I'll take you over and tuck you into bed, and then I'll go down and talk to them. No one's going anywhere, so don't you worry."

Ben tried again to hold his wife, and this time she let him. "The reason I didn't tell you what's going on with Adam is because I'm embarrassed about it. I don't want him calling you, ma'am or Mrs. Cartwright. I keep looking around the room to see if my mother's ghost is paying us a visit." He grinned as his comment elicited a small smile from his bride. "I want him to call you, Mother, like Hoss does."

"That's it? That's what's making you so angry that you had to pound your fist and raise your voice?"

He blushed. "It's more than that. I've asked him to do it, and he's refused. And the 'ma'am,' he tacked onto his goodnight was meant for my ears. It's his way of thumbing his nose at me."

"Ah, I see now." She took his hand and walked back to the table. "This is more about Adam respecting you, than me, isn't it? It doesn't bother _me_ when he calls me ma'am or even Mrs. Cartwright." She sat and laid her hands flat on the table. "You were gone for over a year, and then you came back with me. His world has been set off course, Ben, but he's doing fine."

"It just sounds so…odd…when he calls you…_that_. It's almost mocking." Ben dropped into a chair next to her.

"Only to your ears, my love. I suspect you thought you'd bring me back here and the boys would be happy as pie about having a newcomer around. You want them to love me as much as you do, and in your mind it's not happening fast enough." She knew she'd hit the truth when crimson spread from his neck to his ears. She grasped his hands. "Stop worrying. Adam is talking to me; he's respectful at all times, and he gives me a little more of himself every day. I liken your son to a cat in some ways." His puzzled look made her chuckle. "You know how it is with a cat. The harder you try to get them to like you, the more aloof they become. But when you go about your business—just letting them know you're there if they need something—then they get curious and come around. Once they do that, they learn to trust you." Bringing his hands to her cheek, she gave her husband a loving, yet warning look. "If you stay out of this, your son and I will find our common ground." She looked deeply into his eyes. "Adam is interested. He's asking questions and talking to me more each day, but you can't force him to love me, Ben."

"I know that. And it's so unusual for him to draw a line in the sand over one word."

"Did you ask him why that is? Knowing Adam, I'm sure there's a very good reason."

"I don't care about reasons; I care about obedience."

Marie sighed. "Might it occur to you that your son is just as stubborn as his father? Both of you hold your feelings inside. You make demands instead of asking him to tell you why he can't do it. As a result, you think him disobedient and disrespectful, and he becomes exactly what you don't want him to be. " She shook her head, and then smiled as her husband grinned at her sheepishly. "I think you should head up there and have a talk with him. No one should go to bed angry."

Adam waited for Hoss to settle into bed while he decided what to do. He was surprised that Marie had threatened to leave. In fact, he thought that she was the type of person who would talk to him directly about his behavior if she didn't like it.

Even though she had issued an ultimatum, he was still pretty sure that Marie would listen to him and understand. There had been many times already when she'd asked him questions and paid attention for however long it took for him to answer or she asked for more information to help her better understand what he was telling her. His father was different: he didn't like long answers, and he really didn't like answers that he disagreed with. His efforts at explaining why he couldn't obey his father would be best served by speaking to both of them, and now was probably the right time. They'd work it out; he'd apologize, and things could get back to the new normal in the Cartwright house.

He squared his shoulders, and exited Hoss's room, pausing in mid-step as his father's voice drifted up to him.

"There'll be no more talk about you leaving me, Marie. I think the best solution will be for me to take Adam to San Francisco and find him a position on a merchant ship. He keeps reminding me that he's practically a man now, and a few years away at sea would be good for him."

Adam moved silently into his room and sat on his bed. At least he didn't have to worry about Marie leaving anymore. Her position in the household seemed secure.

Out of Adam's earshot, Marie gave Ben an angry look, and an angrier jab in his arm. "Don't joke around that way! Think about how terrible you'd feel if Adam had heard what you just said. The child would be devastated, and you'd have a hard time making him believe you weren't serious. He wouldn't know that your eyes were dancing with laughter or see that silly grin on your face." After another jab, she added, "And you'd come up with such a ridiculous plan, just to keep from talking to your son? You're incorrigible."

Ben's blush returned along with a sheepish grimace. "You're right. I'm sorry…again. It used to be easier when he was little and thought everything I said was right."

She rose and began gathering the last of the dishes from the table. "Why don't you go up and speak to him while I finish straightening up down here."

Marie had barely moved the cups into the dishpan before Ben was back.

"He's already asleep. I'll catch him before he comes down in the morning." He kissed her cheek and grabbed the towel. "In fact, both boys are asleep, so how about I give you a hand, and we'll go upstairs and end this evening more pleasantly."

**Six**

**Setting Ben Straight**

Marie was stoking the fire in the cook stove when her husband pounded down the steps, strode across the living area, and continued out the door without saying a word. She called after him and followed him outside where she heard him shouting for Adam in the barn. Her puzzlement grew when she saw him looking through the other outbuildings, and finally walk out to the road where he stood scanning the horizon in all directions. He still hadn't acknowledged her, so she walked over and shook his arm to get his attention. "What is going on? I thought you went upstairs to speak to Adam. Is he out working already?"

His visual search ended as he dropped his head, and handed Marie a sheet of paper. "I found this in his room."

Marie's eyes traveled across the page as her heart began to beat wildly.

_Pa, Marie is a fine lady who I've grown to like and admire, so I'm sorry that either of you thinks I've been disrespectful. It was not my intention, but it seems you're angry enough that you think it best for this family if I'm not part of it. I'll go, but I want to do so on my own, rather than aboard a ship. I'm sure the skills I learned working with you will serve me well. _

"He's gone?" she asked as she looked up and saw a mixture of sadness, anger and fear in Ben's eyes.

"I'm guessing he left shortly after we went to bed." He struck his balled fists against his legs. "You were right. I never should have said those things last night. He obviously heard me."

She smiled encouragingly. "You'll go after him and explain. This will all be a memory by tonight."

Ben shook his head from side to side. "It's not that easy. Adam learned to track…and cover his tracks from Indian guides when we traveled with the wagon caravans. He knows how to trap, hunt and fish; how to find or make a shelter; which berries and plants he can eat, and most importantly, how to stay hidden if he wants to."

"But you know those things too, so you'll figure it out."

"That would be a reasonable assumption, but I'm already at a loss." He tipped her face up. "He's got a big head start, and he's wearing moccasins, so I can't follow him. Being on foot should make it easier to catch him, but this countryside is so vast that unless I pick the right direction the first time, it'll be like looking for a needle in a hay stack."

Marie's eyes were filled with worry. "Can't you find anything to show where he went?"

"He headed out to the barn—probably to grab a bedroll and some trail supplies, and then out to the road. But then the imprints disappear in the stone and hard dirt. If he'd worn boots, I might pick up a heel or toe impressions, but this way, he's invisible."

She took his hand and led him toward the house. "You must have some idea of where he'd go—a favorite place where he'd feel safe."

"I'll check the places where we trapped. It's a long shot though, because he'd know that's where I'd look first."

"What are you saying?" she asked with trepidation as they sat on the bench in front of the fireplace.

"I'm saying that I'm afraid I will only find Adam if he wants to be found. He doesn't play games. I've never allowed my children to have tantrums to wheedle me into letting them have their way. I believe he intends to prove that he can take care of himself. He may simply stay out of sight on the Ponderosa, but he isn't planning to come back."

"What make you think that?"

"He took everything important to him. His favorite books are gone, but even more telling is that he took Elizabeth's music box and Bible. If this _was _a stunt…something he was doing for attention, he'd have left those things behind." He wrapped his arm around his wife and pulled her close as they both considered his assessment. "He wants to prove that he's a man, and maybe he _is_ more of a man than I give him credit for."

Marie pulled away and glared at him. "He's a child, Ben, a boy of twelve who has been hurt. It doesn't matter how capable he is, what he took along, or how hard he makes it. He wants you to find him. Right now he's feeling hurt and betrayed. You're his father and you will turn over every piece of hay until you find him. He needs to know he's loved enough for you to do that."

"You're being dramatic," he said through clenched teeth. "Adam knows I love him."

"Does he really?" She stood and looked down at him. "I've kept quiet…trying to stay out of the way you act with your sons. But you need to know something." She pointed her finger at his nose. "You have forgotten that Adam is a boy. Even now, I see a look of pride, despite your worry. You like that fact that he's trying to prove his manhood. But I see this differently, and you better too…before you lose something most precious to you."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Ben's eyes flashed as he met her glare.

"I asked Adam about the life you two had while coming here and it was obvious he shouldered a lot of responsibility from a very young age." She watched the color rising in her husband's cheeks. "Before you explode, let me assure you that he never once complained. In fact, he's the one who told me how necessary it was. He said that when he helped with the ordinary things, it allowed you to do what no one else would have believed possible. Those were happy days for him…days that he expected would get even better after you returned and started ranching. So, I want you to think about how it felt for him to find me here a month ago. Did you expect that his feelings would fall into place overnight?"

"I expected he'd try," he replied with a little too much volume.

"He did Ben! He opened up a little more every day. I saw that; why didn't you?" She laid her hand across his lips as he tried to counter. "And there's something else I noticed. You bestow loving gestures on me and even Hoss, but when it comes to Adam, you resort to slaps on the back and verbal pats on the head. I don't think it's because you love him less…you've just forgotten that he still needs affection."

"Don't you dare question how I display my feelings," he growled.

"I wouldn't have to if you showed them more," Marie replied without backing down. "The other day you got home from the trading post and called Hoss over to find the rock candy you had in your pocket. Then you chased him around trying to get it back. The two of you were laughing as you grabbed him, hugged him, and tossed him into the wagon. But when Adam came out of the house, you told him to unhitch the horses."

"He's older."

"But Ben," she said softly as she stroked his cheek, "while he's tall and strong, and very intelligent, inside that fine frame there is still a youngster who might like an unexpected treat, and might rather play with you and Hoss for a few minutes before being sent off to work."

"Do you think I do anything right?" he asked as his anger turned to an edge of hurt.

"You do almost everything right, my love." She took her seat next to him again. "You're a man who chased a dream while still doing a marvelous job of raising two young boys. You're fierce, loyal and you will never take no for an answer. Adam loves you and would do anything for you, including leaving if he thought that was what you wanted. My only advice is that you take a little time to appreciate what you have in front of you, instead of always seeing what still needs to be done. Enjoy your sons now, before they're grown up or gone." she winked at him. "It wouldn't hurt to chase both of them around the yard once in a while."

Ben rested his forehead against his fists. "What do I say when I find him?"

"Not a thing."

He sat back, looking startled. "Huh?"

"You open your arms, and then hold him as tight as you can, for as long as it takes."

**Part Two – Malicious Games**

**One**

**The Obvious Direction**

Proving himself a man in late fall, with an unspecified amount of time before winter sent its first icy blasts, left very few options for Adam. There was no way to cross the Sierras now without being trapped at some point, and heading northeast towards Utah would offer the same hazards. Being caught anywhere without food and shelter when the first snows blanketed the land would be fatal. As he'd begun to reason it out, trapping through the winter had seemed his best option. The pelts would net a startup stake come spring, and the work would utilize a skill he knew well. At first he'd considered trying to run lines somewhere on the Ponderosa, but that wouldn't have proven anything. His goal was to do what he knew in a way that he didn't have to rely on his father's land or resources.

He'd left home during the night with his few possessions, a change of clothing, blankets, food to tide him over until he could supply his own needs, and a few tools and supplies stuffed into a pillowcase. To make sure he could get a head start, he'd worn the moccasins Mrs. Fanon had given him. His father was a good tracker, and the lack of imprint left by the soft leather would leave few clues.

The night had been chilly, and he'd wrapped up in a blanket as he hurried along to put distance between his old life and the new one he would create. Toward dawn, he'd reached the northern boundary of the Ponderosa, and he found an area of rocks and scrub trees on the backside of a rise to take shelter. Digging into his sack, he withdrew a loaf of bread and ripped off a chunk that he ate while going over his plans.

An idea had formed during his walk—a way to get a foothold on his own, and be safe doing it. Mrs. Fanon had driven them out to her homestead once while they'd been with her, and he knew he could find it again. She'd left most of her husband's tools and traps behind thinking the person who bought the land would appreciate having a few things to start with. The cabin she'd stayed at in town had been furnished, so she'd left furniture and cooking utensils behind too. The Fanons hadn't had a bountiful life, so there wasn't much. Yet it was better than starting with nothing, and Adam was sure Mrs. Fanon would have no objections to him staying there.

The other necessary factor in Adam's plan was to have access to trapping runs, and the house was close enough to the Salmon River(1) for him to work the backwaters during the day, and get back to shelter at night. The best thing about the location was that he was pretty sure his father wouldn't think of it, and with Thelma Fanon already on her way back East, she couldn't suggest that he look there either.

The thought of being alone all winter was giving him a few shaky moments, but it was the only way he could see to get started. Come spring, he'd head out, finding work in the settlements popping up along the wagon trails, and eventually making his way to Boston.

This undertaking would not be easy or quick, but he was satisfied that his plan would work. There was precedent in this sort of adventure too. He had heard stories about Indian boys from many tribes going out on quests to find their calling within their groups or to earn their acceptance into their adult cultures. What made Adam sad was that unlike his journey, those native boys returned to their families, and their quests were celebrated. His father had said that he wanted his son gone for a few years, so there'd be no celebration for him at the Cartwright home anytime soon.

Ben made camp at one of his old trapping sites, and tried to sleep. He'd spent the day riding the hills and stream beds where he'd worked with the boys in the past, but there was no sign of anyone having been there recently. Sickness roiled in his stomach when he admitted to himself that he would have easily caught up to Adam already if the boy had come this way. "Where did you head, son?" he asked of the darkness, hoping to hear an answer on the breeze or in a still small voice as Elijah had. There was no answer.

Sleep eluded him, and he rose early, planning to search other areas nearby where there would be shelter and food. "Please let him make a mistake," he sighed in prayer as his heart ached, and then he tacked on an addendum to his prayer for a clue. Without a clue, he would be fighting windmills like Don Quixote.

It wouldn't be easy, but he decided that if didn't find some sign today, he'd head home and lay out all the possibilities that Adam might have considered. After that, he'd check them out one by one until he found some trace of his missing boy.

He pulled a slice of jerky from his saddlebag and drew a long swig of water from his canteen. Coffee would have been a welcome addition, but he didn't want to waste time bringing the fire back up. After kicking dirt onto the remaining embers and securing his bedroll to his saddle, he rode on.

**Two**

**Be It Ever So Humble**

Adam used his hand to block the sun while trying to spot the trap marker he'd set up the previous day. Thelma had left several traps behind that her husband had used. There were larger ones for predatory and nuisance animals, and an assortment of smaller ones that he'd run for fur: the settler's equivalent of cash at the trading posts. Adam was using the smaller ones, hoping to start his pelt collection with beaver, mink, raccoon and muskrat. He'd found all but one, and figured it had been knocked over by the wind or a critter. Not seeing it meant he would have to tread very carefully, using a heavy stick to probe the longer grass before taking a step. The last thing he needed was to end up with his own foot in its jaw.

After poking around for a while, he found the missing implement, released its bounty, and headed home to skin and dress the pelts. It took only minutes to make his way back to the homestead buildings where he finished his work, and brought the rabbit he'd snared inside to cook for dinner.

He'd made it to the Fanon's place after three days of walking, and he'd been living at his "camp" for over three weeks already. The first thing he'd done after arriving, had been to get his trap-line set to ensure a steady food supply and start building a reserve of furry currency to use when winter was over. Then he'd set to improving the house. It was sturdy enough, but he'd filled in the spaces between logs with moss, repaired the door and laid in a good stock of firewood. The place had needed a good cleaning, so he'd done that and gotten it to a comfortable state before continuing his efforts on the shed so he'd have a decent place to dry his pelts.

One thing he'd noticed when Mrs. Fanon had brought them out there, was that her old garden seemed to be producing vegetables. "I came back to get as much as I could after my husband passed, but I'm sure there was enough left in there that it reseeded," she'd explained. "I imagine it's continued to do that since I've been gone."

Adam had taken advantage of what was there, and he'd pulled usable potatoes, carrots and turnips to use in bulking up the meals of rabbit and squirrel from his snares.

Mrs. Fanon had admitted that she'd tried to stay on their homestead but the lonely silence had made her edgy, and she'd been glad to move to the trading post. The quiet had been unnerving for Adam at first too, especially after living with Hoss, who chattered endlessly. But he found that he could push the ache from losing his family aside by working harder.

He'd brought books along to occupy his evening, although he was usually so exhausted by the end of the day that he'd fall asleep before getting anything read. He wrote in the journal Mrs. Fanon had given him when he needed to "talk," and kept himself going by repeating that he'd only be here six months. This had become his mantra to keep the panic at bay when he'd awaken each night from dreams of his brother and father, only to remember that he was by himself with only the howling wind and yipping coyotes for company.

**Two**

**Still Without a Clue**

She'd warned him. Maria sat next to her husband at the breakfast table, taking clandestine peeks at the lines in his face—lines that had not been there three weeks ago. She _had _warned him that this rift with Adam—over the use of a word that hadn't mattered to her—would take its toll. It was doing just that, but she took no satisfaction in being right. Her heart ached for this honorable man, and she worried constantly for the boy she'd grown to love. She prayed unceasingly for both of them.

"What are your plans for today?" She knew he'd spend a good part of the day searching for his son before heading back to work on the ranch until well after nightfall. He'd exhausted the more obvious possibilities after two weeks, and was now checking the next grouping of likely places Adam might have gone.

"Last night I thought about a canyon we explored when the boys were younger. There were a number of caves there, and I remembered that Hoss was too afraid to go inside, but Adam loved the cool darkness."

"You think he might be there?" she asked with an encouraging smile.

"It's a longshot, just like the other places I've looked. The shelter would work well, but there's nothing there to keep him going—no water, and little food unless he had a gun." He sighed heavily, while pushing his half-eaten breakfast away. "Adam had a plan; I know that. He's either somewhere working it out, or he's on his way to where he wants to be. I feel like I'm chasing my tail looking on the ranch, but if he's not here…then…"

She moved behind him and wrapped her arms around his neck, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. "You will find him. You said he'd have a plan. Maybe you need to concentrate more on what he'd be most likely to do, and how he'd go about it."

"I think he'd head to Boston," he said with a firm nod. "He's talked about going to meet his grandfather, and to find out more about his mother." He took her hand and relocated her to his lap where he could see her. "Adam saw a newspaper article about all the universities near Boston when he was about eight-years-old, and since then he's talked about attending one of them. I think he cares deeply about what we're building here, but the idea of getting a good education, and the hope of meeting his mother's family are strong sirens for him." He chuckled. "Our two boys are so different. Hoss lives in the moment. His needs are simple, and he's usually content. Adam, on the other hand, is more like me. He's always searching. He works hard in present, but his mind is always looking ahead to what he hasn't accomplished yet."

Marie brought her forehead to his as she thought about what a child born from the two of them might be like. Would it be content and focused on the present like Hoss, or driven like its father and oldest brother? They'd find out soon enough. She recognized the symptoms she was experiencing, and was thrilled that she would have another chance at motherhood, this time with a wonderful man and a family who would love and support her and the baby. But the news about another member of the family on the way would have to wait until all of the Cartwrights were under one roof again. She brought her attention back to the current dilemma. "Do you think he went east? Maybe he found a supply train like Thelma did."

Ben shook his head slowly. "I talked to Slim about that the second week Adam was gone, without saying why I wanted to know. He said Thelma left with the last caravan leaving this fall. He's expecting another delivery of things shortly, but that one is going to winter over at Carson." He held Marie tightly and rested his head on her shoulder. "Would you think me foolish if I said that I _feel _he's still nearby?

"I'd never think another parent foolish for feeling a connection to their child." A delicate pink colored her cheeks as she looked into his eyes. "In fact," she hesitated but then decided to be honest, "I felt my son's presence long after they told me he had died. There was no real reason to think they had lied to me, and I listened to every word they ever said about him, hoping to catch them in some contradiction. It proved nothing. Yet I never felt his passing, at least not in my heart. Even now, there are days…" Her head lowered to her chest for a moment. When she met his eyes, she was smiling again. "Enough talk about a child we can't save. Let's get back to the one we can. What would you be doing if you were Adam?"

"I'd find a way to spend the winter trapping, and then sell the pelts in spring. With some cash, I could set out for Boston."

She sat back and smiled. "That seems reasonable! Where could he go to accomplish that, if not on the ranch?"

"The river. The backwaters of the Salmon should have a good supply of pelt animals. Most of our ranch hands were trappers once. I don't think they had any permanent shelters, but Adam might have found something left out there he could use." His eyes were hopeful as he concluded, "I'll still check the canyon today and head over to the river tomorrow. In fact, I'll trail a horse behind the wagon and leave that at the outpost for Slim to load while I go out looking. Make a list of anything you'd like me to pick up. We should get into town a few times yet before the snow flies, but it'll be good to get things as we think of them. Hopefully those items we ordered in New Orleans will have made it to the outpost too," he said as the worried lines in his face were softened by a mischievous grin. "If they are, you'll be able to spend the winter making the curtains and other _pretty things_ you think are missing in this Spartan home."

**Three**

**Beware the Stranger Comes a Riding**

The pine-needle tea wasn't great, but it was better than plain hot water. Adam sipped it from a tin cup while making the 10 strides it took to cross the cabin. He was used to small places. The new Ponderosa house was modest in size, and yet so much bigger than anything he had ever known in his life. Most of his early years had been spent in a covered wagon where their piles of earthly goods and supplies had taken the majority of space. He remembered sleeping outside, under the wagon, and hunkering into whatever nook or cranny they could find inside only if the weather was bad.

Thinking about their covered wagons made him smile. They'd started from Uncle John's place in a smaller rig, but had to replace it after Pa and Inger had married. Inger had turned the larger wagon they had bought in Missouri into a marvel of utility. Everything for daily use was neatly stored near the back or front, and could be removed and set up in matter of minutes. The process was reversed in the morning before setting off for another long day bumping across the prairie.

He'd done the same sort of planning in this cabin. He'd moved the table and bed near the fireplace. The interior was small enough that this arrangement allowed the "living" area to be warm while leaving the opposite wall cool enough to store his food. He nodded in satisfaction as he stopped and looked over what he'd managed to forage from the land. There was a modest pile of root vegetables and dried corn from the self-seeded garden, and fall berries and clover were drying on a crude, homemade rack. He'd also amassed pinion pinecones that were stored in the shed so they could be warmed later and harvested for their pine nuts.

The Cartwrights had learned many things about survival from their Bannock and Paiute neighbors. Adam had done all he could for now, and knew that if he got stuck without fresh meat in the winter, he could even make his way to the pines and cut away inner bark to fry like bacon.

After finishing his breakfast and reading a few chapters from the Bible, as was his father's habit, he slipped on his boots and made his way outside where he stretched in the cool morning air. He saw dust on the horizon before he could make out the single rider heading toward the house. The long sigh he released was a mixture of disappointment and relief. Somewhere in his heart, and written in the pages of his journal, was the hope that his father would find him and take him home. Yet, in his weeks alone, he'd also come to appreciate that he was able to take care of himself.

The anticipation of the reunion vanished as the horse brought his visitor nearer, and he realized that this was no one he knew. He felt a shiver of unease, but moved that to a darker corner of his mind, and smiled as he walked into the yard to greet the stranger. Horse and rider came to a stop a few feet in front of him, allowing Adam to take stock. He noticed the man's ragged clothing, and his rheumy eyes, weather-beaten skin, and bulbous, bluish nose. This was all framed by a good supply of bedraggled facial hair and heavy eyebrows. The disheveled effect was completed by a mane of tangled gray hair held somewhat captive by a threadbare hat.

The man squinted at him from atop his road-weary mount and asked, "Yer parents home, kid?"

"No. May I help you?"

"I'm nearly dying of hunger. Yer ma got any food in that cabin?"

"There's a little stew still warm. Tie your horse out in the yard where it can get at the grass and I'll bring you something. There's a pan of water on the porch you can use to clean up." Adam hoped he could give the traveler some food and get him on his way. He had no intention of letting him in the cabin, and was surprised when the seemingly old codger slipped off his horse with more agility than Adam thought possible, and followed him to the door. "Wait out here," he told him with more bravado than he felt.

"That's not very hospitable of you, son," he said with an evil smile and pushed the boy ahead of him through the door. Once inside, he commented, "This is nice, kid. Kinda small fer a family, but homey."

Adam hurried to ladle the remaining stew onto a plate and motioned the intruder to sit at the table. "I'd like you to eat this and get going."

Juice ran from the man's mouth down into his beard and he laughed while shoving the food into his mouth. "What's the rush, kid?" he asked, spitting pieces of food out while he spoke. "You got somethin' better to do?" He continued to eat, barely chewing before swallowing.

Squaring his shoulders, Adam stood by the table and stared down at the person who'd now become an intruder. "I have things to do, and I want you on your way before I get to them." He marveled again at the fluidity of movement as the ragged man slid his sidearm from his belt, aiming it directly at his host. He'd never faced a gun before, and was at a loss to know if he was truly just a trigger-pull away from being dead.

"You got coffee?" he asked while with the gun still aimed and cocked.

"No, so are you done then?" Adam marveled that his voice didn't betray his panic, and stuck his hands in his pockets to keep their trembling unseen.

The stranger's laugh was loud and long, but he made no move to leave. "You got some big ones kid, I'll say that. You stand there with a gun pointed at yer belly and tell me to git?" The laughing stopped as his voice got dead serious. "I'll let that one go, son, since we don't know each other yet."

Adam was caught unprepared, and stumbled backwards when the table came crashing against him. Before he could right himself again, the man had flung the piece of furniture aside and was on top of him, this time with the gun stuck up under his chin.

His next words were issued through a clenched jaw and an odd assortment of rotted teeth. "I might look like a dumb trail bum, son, but I'm not a man to be pushed around by the likes of you. Mouth off to me again and you'll have a bullet in ya. I don't care how young you are. If you talk like a man, you'll die like one." He looked around the cabin, and then brought his face nose-to-nose with his captive. "It don't look like there's anythin' in this place belonging to a family, so I s'pect you live here alone. That about right?" he asked as he notched the gun in tighter.

Adam nodded, and the man's grip on his shirt loosened.

"Yer folks die?"

"My mother did," he answered honestly, this time his voice fully engaged in the tremor of terror. "My pa didn't want me around, so I left."

A wheezy chuckle. "My pa used to beat me to a pulp every time he got himself liquored up, and when I got big enough to fight back, he didn't want me around neither. So I killed him, took what I wanted, and left. That what happened to you to? I mean the beatin' part, not the killing. Can't say as you look like a killer to me."

"No," Adam said quietly as he gained control of his fear again. "He got married again."

"I suppose the new little lady didn't want to be saddled with his kids." He rose and continued without waiting for an answer. "If you're alone, you won't mind some company for a little while. Levi's my name. I didn't catch yours."

"Adam," he responded quickly.

"Well, Adam, I'm as tired as I was hungry, so why don't you go about what you was gonna do, and I'll rest a spell. That bed looks mighty invitin'." He stretched and scratched his belly. "And Adam," he said with an eerie smile, "If you stay away from the house and let me sleep, I'll be outta here when you get back tonight. I got a long ways to go yet if I want to get down to Mexico before winter."

The canyons and caves had proven as barren and clueless as the rest of the areas Ben had searched the last weeks. Yet his mood at dinner that night was hopeful. "I might be gone a few days," he told Hoss and Marie as they ate. "It'll all depend if I can find any evidence of trapping along the river. If I do, I'll keep looking until I find who's doing it."

"I sure hope you find him, Pa," Hoss said seriously. "I want Adam home now. He's been gone long enough."

Marie offered Hoss her hand and pulled him over to cradle him on her lap. "I know how you feel, darling. Your father and I want him home too."

Hoss had been quieter than usual since his brother had been gone. He'd be happy and boisterous at times, and become somber again when he'd remember that all was not right. But he had provided insight into the situation, when in one of his tearful recitals, he'd revealed a little more of what happened to prompt Adam's leaving. "I told him that I heard Mama say she was gonna leave if she didn't get 'spect, and the last I knowed, he was gonna come down and talk to you guys so she wouldn't go on account of him."

The admission of Hoss's half-heard eavesdropping of Marie's rant at Ben, coupled with Adam's obvious overhearing of Ben's "humorously intended" comment, had left both parents shaken. The young man had left thinking_ he_ was responsible for Marie wanting to leave, and that his father's solution in getting her to stay involved shipping his son off to sea. One thing they learned for sure was that they couldn't argue when the boys were in earshot.

Adam returned from his day of tending traps with trepidation. He'd gotten a couple good pelts, and a big rabbit that would feed him for a few days, but the events of the morning had left him shaken, and he wasn't sure he believed that Levi would be gone when he returned. Yet he'd left with the hope that all would be normal again when he got back. It struck him as ironic that although Levi had been given the name of the Biblical patriarch of Israel responsible for performing priestly connections between man and God, _this_ Levi seemed more aligned with the Devil. The only thing he'd really learned about the man was that he'd had a father he'd hated.

Thinking about Levi's situation brought Adam's own father to his mind. That wasn't unusual though. He always thought about his family while he worked. He couldn't understand how his father could have changed so much during his trip to New Orleans. He'd asked himself many times whether he could trust his hurt feelings to believe that Ben Cartwright had stopped loving his oldest son. His conclusion on the night he'd left was that it was true. But distance and time had added perspective. What he'd heard his father say was so unlike him, and while they had butted heads over a few things concerning Marie in the month after she'd arrived, the rest of the time everything seemed as normal as it could be.

Not knowing exactly what had spurred his father's comments had begun to tear him apart, and he'd decided that he wouldn't leave the territory next spring without going home first. He had to say goodbye…if for no other reason than to make sure this was what his father truly wanted. If he had misunderstood something, then maybe he could remain home, knowing that he'd proven himself a man. On the other hand, if his initial impressions were correct, then he'd move on with six months of being on his own already under his belt.

Adam's mouth dried to dust, and his legs went wobbly when he rounded the corner to the front of the house and his current life came crashing back on him. Levi's horse was still there. It was at the hitch rail now, wet and snorting its displeasure. The saddle was in a heap on the porch and the cabin door was open enough that Adam could hear Levi slurring out words to an off-key melody. The evidence suggested that his houseguest had left, ridden his horse hard somewhere, and then returned. He did a quick inspection of the animal, and found no obvious problem that might have made its rider turn back. What was obvious, from the caterwauling within, and the empty whiskey bottle propped next to the saddle, was that Levi was drunk.

Seeing an animal in distress bothered Adam as much as what he expected to find in the house, so he set the day's pelts aside, grabbed a brush and rag from the shed and wiped the horse down before getting it a bucket of water. Hoping to delay going in the house as long as possible, he stretched the pelts, hung them in the shed, and got the rabbit meat ready to cook. When he couldn't delay it any longer, he headed toward the house. Something inside him was whispering that he should run, but something else was telling him that a _man _would face the situation head on and get the intruder to leave. It was too late to start over again, and if he let this drunkard chase him off, he wasn't sure where he'd go.

The late afternoon light couldn't make it to the darker corners of the cabin, but Adam knew there was something off as soon as he stepped inside. Levi raised his head from the table with difficulty and stared at him with bloodshot eyes and a self-satisfied grin. "I 'spose you thought I'd be gone by now, didn't ya, kid?"

"You did promise." Ben Cartwright rarely drank around his sons, and then only for "medicinal" purposes. But Adam had been around enough men in towns and wagon caravans who'd imbibed to extremes. He knew they couldn't be reasoned with, and it was best not to get them riled up. After adding enough wood in to get the fire blazing again, he asked, "You left, so why did you come back?"

"Had to get…" Levi 's words were interrupted by a loud, lingering belch, followed by a hiccup. "Somethin'."

With the fire's glow brightening the room, Adam became aware of what had bothered him when he'd entered. His voice was angry and his words delivered with the hurt of the wronged. "Where are my things? There was a music box there," he pointed at a straight-cut log he used as a stand next to the bed. "And my Bible is missing." He walked to the opposite side of the cabin and groaned as he found an empty wall where the vegetables and dried pelts had been. Walking to the table, he leaned his arms on the surface and demanded of his inebriated intruder. "What did you do with my belongings?"

"Told ya," he laughed as spittle flew from his mouth, making him mop his mangy beard with his dirty sleeve. "I had to get somethin'." He held the half-empty bottle up for emphasis. "They don't just give you booze, you got to pay for it. I needed a drink more'n you needed some fancy trinket or a Bible. And them vegetables and pelts fetched a few cents too. Besides, you can live on meat, and you'll get more pelts"

"You had no right," he said in a bewildered calm, "You're a thief…and a liar. Why'd you come back here? Why didn't you keep going after you had what you wanted?" Adam's voice rose in pitch as he forgot his rule about not poking a drunken bear.

A modicum of lucidity reappeared as Levi sat up straight and forced his eyes to focus. His voice had none of the slurring present in his previous comments, as he hissed, "All I done was to take a couple pennies worth from you."

"They were priceless to me." He pulled his spine straight and pointed to the door. "You've taken all I had, so go! I'm tired of you and your crazy games."

The laugh was deep and evil. "Games? You think I done played a game with you? I did what I had to is all. I thought you might understand since you's all alone out here, and livin' on what you can scavenge. But I guess I was wrong about that. You's all proud, and selfish, and angry, just like everyone else. And if you think this little misunderstanding was a game, you have no idea what I could do if I put my mind to it. My pa was an expert at games." His red-rimmed eyes nearly sparkled as he added, "Maybe it's time I introduce you to a couple of them."

Ben sent Hoss to Marie for a goodnight hug and kiss before taking him up to his room for a bedtime story. He recounted one of the little boy's favorite tales about an industrious raccoon that had slipped into their wagon after they'd gone to bed one rainy night. "He was looking for something to eat and a dry place to sleep, and curled up to Adam's back until morning. Your mama was the first to wake up, and after tending to you, she went to wake your brother."

Hoss knew all the details and he chimed in, "And Mama thought it was that old coon-skin hat Adam used to wear, and her screamin' woke up the entire camp when she went to grab it, and it crawled up Mama's skirt and over her shoulder to jump outta there! And after that, Mama kept a good heavy stick in the wagon to poke at anything she wasn't sure about."

Father and son enjoyed a good laugh before Ben listened to Hoss's prayers and then tucked him in. He placed a kiss on the child's head before saying, "Goodnight, son" before leaving. He crossed over to other small bedroom that had been empty for too long. He didn't know how to describe the odd feeling that struck him there. He sensed Adam's presence again—not in the room—but in his heart. "I know you're close by, and I will find you soon, son," he whispered, along with renewing his prayer for the clue to send him in the right direction.

**Four**

**Let the Games Begin**

Levi ordered Adam to get the rabbit roasting while he went outside to relieve himself and clear his head.

Adam didn't look up when Levi came back inside. "The meat will be ready in a little while, and since there isn't anything left to make with it, I guess there's nothing more to do until it's done." His tone was laced with enough venom to let his unwanted houseguest know how upset he was at losing his food stash. When Levi said nothing, he added, "I guess you didn't expect your thievery to affect your belly, or you might have at least left the food."

Levi sat at the table, using his gun to indicate that his host should do the same. His voice was deadly calm as he began. "Did you ever see a Colt Patterson, Adam?" He laid the long-barreled revolver on the table.

Adam nodded. "That one came out in 1839, I think, but they're expensive and hard to come by. How'd you get one?"

A serpentine grin played at the corner of Levi's mouth. "I 'inherited' it from a man who didn't need it no more." The grin vanished as he picked the weapon up again and indicated the firing cartridge. "This here holds five shots. Now you may be wonderin' why that's important…" He paused, letting the tension build while he watched the puzzled expression grow on the boy's face. "My pa didn't have such a fancy gun; it only held two shots, but that was enough to play his favorite game with me. It will be even more fun with a Patterson." He yawned loudly, and used the gun's grip to scratch behind his ear. "While I was outside just now, I left one chamber loaded with powder, a ball and a cap. The other four chambers are empty." Levi's voice grew deep and menacing. "I'm purely tired of your mouth, boy. You done called me a thief and a liar; you told me to leave more'n once, and you continue to make me feel unwelcome."

Adam's face pulled into a snarl as his eyes narrowed to slits. "Why don't you get to the point before the rabbit burns."

Levi rose from his chair and walked behind Adam. He grabbed the boy's left shoulder firmly with one hand, and pressed the Colt's hard, steel barrel tightly against Adam's right temple, effectively pinning him to the chair. "You wanna know my point? Here it is—slick and simple. Like I said, I'm sick-a your back talk and nastiness. So we're gonna play the game my pa did to cure me of bad habits. Each time you say something I don't like, I'm gonna raise this gun to your head and fire." He cocked it to release the trigger. "Four of these chambers are empty like I said, but one of them will kill you. I reckon you got one or two chances to mend your ways before leaving this earth permanently, but then again, it's all luck. You lucky, kid?"

Adam barely heard the question before he heard the trigger activate the firing mechanism, making him cry out. His breathing was raspy and his entire body shook as he realized the chamber had been an empty one. The room began to spin as his shock deepened. He collapsed back in his chair, as involuntary tears ran down his cheeks. His arm rose to wipe away the salty drops, even though he had no awareness of desiring to do so. He struggled to gain his equilibrium while the room whirled before his eyes, and his stomach lurched. A few deep breaths settled things to the point where he could whisper, "Why are you doing this?"

"To teach you some manners, like I said, but you also seemed to want to play some games, so I'm just obligin' you. You got it easy. My pa used to make me pick which of the two barrels He'd shoot at me. It's easier with this Colt, and we can play as long as your luck holds up."

Adam tried to run. He knew he'd made a big mistake in coming back to the cabin; this man was far worse than he had imagined, and standing up to him didn't seem likely to accomplish anything. Levi tripped him, and pulled him back into the chair as he'd struggled towards the door in his shocked stupor.

The words shot from Adam's mouth in a frenzied scream. "You're crazy!" He heard the second cock and the second metallic snap as the trigger fell on another empty chamber. The resulting panic was much as the first time, except that his head cleared more quickly, and he held his hands over his mouth until he could reply without incurring further retaliation. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. Please stop."

Levi resumed his seat at the table with a victorious smile. "Well, that was nice, Adam. Keep it up and we won't have to find out which chamber holds the shot."

**Five**

**A Clue**

Slim was outside sweeping the wooden planks of the trading post porch when the Cartwright wagon pulled into town. "You're here early," he shouted to his best customer as Ben jumped down, untied his saddle horse, and led it to the rail. "Come on in, Ben. There's a fresh pot of coffee on the stove, and you look like you could use a cup."

Ben looked around the room as he entered and nodded appreciatively. "You're doing a fine job in here. There's new people arriving in this area all the time, and they'll need a good general mercantile instead of a trading post."

"That's what I thought too," Slim replied as he stood a little taller with the compliment. "That new feller, Will Cass, the one who got here with his family about the time Thelma left, moved into the cabin, and he's been helping me." He grinned and poked Ben in the arm. "This town's going to grow, Ben; in large part due to you. When settlers find out that there's a substantial ranch here, they'll be more likely to stay put."

The two men sipped on coffee in silence, until Slim banged his mug down, and smiled broadly. "Speaking of things arriving from the East; I've got the supplies you sent from New Orleans tucked inside the storage shed." He used his apron to mop up the coffee that had sloshed from his cup. "Since you have your saddle horse along, I assume you'll want me to load the wagon so you can take off for the day. Do you have a list of other things you need?"

Ben didn't answer. He was staring at something on the shelf behind the storekeeper. His mouth felt like it was filled with soda crackers as he asked, "Where'd did you get that music box?" He pointed to the cream-colored rectangle with the flourish of cherubs on the sides and cover that was standing on a black, leather-covered Bible.

Slim quickly retrieved it. "A trapper—called himself, Levi—brought it in along with some pelts and that Bible yesterday. He looked like a wild man with his mane of white hair and beard." He laughed and then tapped his chin thoughtfully. "You know he even brought in a pillow case full of potatoes and carrots. I gave him a couple bottles of whiskey for it. I ain't got much call to be selling fancies out here yet, but Mary's birthday is next month and she'll appreciate the music box. I'm gonna remove the pages in the Bible that have some names on them and give that to Mary too."

The shopkeeper's words barely broke through Ben's haze. He would have recognized Elizabeth's music box anywhere. It was a one-of-a-kind piece he'd purchased for her on one of his voyages with her father. "You said there were pelts too? May I see them?" He couldn't help but think that this was the clue he'd prayed for, yet it wasn't a comforting one. These were surely Adam's things, but why were they traded by a stranger? He examined the skins Slim placed in front of him, and found what he was looking for—a small "A" notched on the edge. Adam had always marked the pelts he prepared this way, and he'd taken satisfaction in counting how many he'd contributed come selling time."

"What's wrong, Ben?" Slim's voice was filled with concern. "You look like the weight of the world just fell on your shoulders."

"Maybe it has…" he replied. "I guess I should tell you some things." Ben spent a few minutes explaining Adam's disappearance, and the fact that the items the shopkeeper had taken in trade belonged to his son. "If you check in the Bible, you'll see it belonged to Elizabeth Stoddard, Adam's mother."

"I wouldn't believe it, if I hadn't heard it from your mouth," Slim said when he was finally able to speak. "Adam is the last child I'd imagine running away."

"He didn't run away." Ben grit his teeth and closed his eyes, deciding how much to tell about the situation. He finally concluded, "I just need to find him."

Slim knew Ben was impatient. He'd seen his friend's demeanor change from calm and good natured, to dead serious and impatient. The man was shifting from one foot to another, and glancing toward the door, but the shopkeeper wasn't about to let Ben ride off in this unsettled state. He gathered the Bible and music box, setting them on the counter with the pelts. "You take these back. I'll put them in the wagon so you'll have them for Adam." He thought a moment. "I imagine that box and Bible mean more to him that most anything, 'ceptin you and Hoss."

A puzzled look shot Ben's eyebrows toward the bridge of his nose. "It's true, but what makes you say that?"

"It was something Thelma showed me while the boys were with her." He pulled a gunny sack from a barrel and began loading the pelts and treasures inside. "After the boys had been with her for some time, I teased her about how I suspected they were calling her, Ma, already. She said that the younger one would have been more likely to do it, but he understood that she wasn't ever going to be that to him. Then she told me about something she had Adam write. He had to tell about a promise he'd made to someone, and why it was hard to keep. She didn't feel right about sharing it, but had to tell someone; it affected her that much."

The father's impatience flared. "I'm sure this is interesting, Slim, but right now it's more important to find him than it is to hear about something he wrote."

Slim's strong hand grasped his friends arm. "It'll only take a second." His smile was kind, and he released his grip. "That story was about how he wished he could have known his own ma, and how he made a _sacred promise_ that he would never call another woman, 'Mother.' It didn't seem right to him that he would use that name for someone else. He wrote that he'd learned about sacred promises from you, Ben, so it wouldn't be hard to keep because you'd understand that some vows can't be set aside no matter how much trouble they cause." Slim sniffed loudly and ran his sleeve under his nose. "Can you imagine a youngster making such an honorable decision? He's a fine boy, Ben, so don't you worry none; just find him and bring him home. Things will work out then."

Ben mumbled his thanks as he fished in his pocket for his list of supplies and handed it over. "Do you have any idea where that Levi was trapping?"

"I asked, but he sidestepped any small talk."

"I'd appreciate it if you'd see to the team, and load the wagon for me. I'm going to ride along the river and see if I can find any signs of him or Adam. Don't worry if I'm not back tonight. I'll stay out…until I find what I'm looking for." He stopped talking, turned abruptly, and hurried from the store. Drawing a deep breath of crisp morning air cleared his head a little, but then the information he'd just heard ignited in his mind like lightning striking dry prairie grass. _Am I the only one who doesn't understand my son? How could I not see his devotion to Elizabeth? Marie figured it out: Inger must have understood too. A sacred promise; it all makes sense now. Marie is right; I don't pay attention to him. I bark orders and expect him to obey. _He took a shuddering breath; grabbed the reins, pulled up into the saddle, and was turning his horse in the direction of the river when Slim came running out the door.

"Wait!" he shouted as he got out to the dusty roadway. "I just remembered that Will Cass was thinking of buying Thelma's place, so he rode out there a couple of weeks back. He decided he doesn't want to farm, and made me an offer on the store instead after I told him that I'd like to go back to Wisconsin with Mary. I think he'll do well."

"We'll be sorry to see you go, but is there a point to this, Slim?" Ben broke in impatiently, while his horse tossed its head against the tightened reins.

"Oh, sure…sorry." Slim blushed and chuckled. "Will was pretty sure someone was living out at Thelma's. No one was around, but there were embers in the fireplace, and food and hides in the house. He thought a trapper might be squatting there." Slim scratched his head as his face lit up. Maybe that's where…

Ben mentally kicked himself for not thinking of this possibility sooner, and cut him off to ask, "Did Thelma ever take the boys out to her place?"

"She had them there for a picnic once when…" Slims was left standing in a cloud of dust as Ben kicked his mount to a gallop.

Ben had been out to the land that Thelma and her husband had laid claim to shortly after they'd arrived, but he hadn't been back since the buildings had been added. Even from a good distance, he recognized the copse of trees where the cabin now sat, and he remembered Thelma telling him that was where they would put the house. He urged his horse to a quicker pace to cover the remaining ground, and sighed as he grieved for the lost dream of the fine couple, while hoping he'd find his son living in what remained of it.

The only thing that gave him pause was the saddled horse in front nibbling on some shocks of brown grass. _Maybe this is where that trapper's been living, and he might have found Adam's things after… _He shook his head to clear the doubts and fears about what might have happened.

"Anybody home?" he called out after leaving his horse tied to a tree a few yards from the house. He stopped walking as his boots ground into something covered by a thin layer of dirt near the door. Squatting down for a better look, he saw shattered glass everywhere along the path connecting the house to the shed. Ben picked up a piece that still bore a large section of label, identifying it as Kentucky-style whiskey. He made a wider visual sweep of the area, noting that there were large animal traps at intervals along the path, as well as the glass. A few traps off to the side were set, but those along the path were shut.

The scene made him shiver and he wondered whether this fortified gauntlet had been set up to keep someone out of the house…or in it. He slipped the new revolver he'd picked up in New Orleans from his holster, and walked quietly to the door. Finding it ajar, he used the pistol barrel to push it open all the way, and stepped inside.

It was empty, and yet a smile flicked across Ben's face as he observed the layout. His hunch was confirmed. The inside of the room was set up exactly like the Cartwrights had always arranged their winter cabin. His son had been here, and from the looks of it, not long ago.

The evidence of Adam's recent attendance energized him, and yet the presence of the horse in the yard gave him a sense of foreboding. Had Levi evicted Adam…or done something worse to him…and then taken up residence? There was small window at the back of the cabin, and a brief shadow of movement beyond the glass caught Ben's eye, making him walk over to take a better look.

What he saw through the pane made his blood run cold. The white-haired wild man Slim had described was leaning over Adam with a pistol pressed to the boy's head. Adam was on his knees with his hands tied behind his back. He was blindfolded, bare-footed, and covered with blood. Rage overwhelmed Ben as he smashed out the glass of the window with his revolver, and shouted, "Leave that boy alone or I'll shoot."

The unexpected noise of breaking glass, and the shock of hearing an unfamiliar voice, made Levi swing his head toward the house. As he did so, his finger jerked back on the Colt's trigger, causing the hammer to fall on the fifth chamber of the revolver—the one that was not empty, as the other four had been. A flash of flame flew from the barrel that was still aimed in the direction of Adam's head, and the boy collapsed in a heap.

Ben could see bright crimson blood spreading through Adam's dark hair even from a distance. The window was too small to exit, leaving Ben with no other option than running out the door to get to his son. His heart ached with the surety that no one could survive a headshot from such close proximity, and his legs felt leaden as he made his way out to the yard.

His hurried progress was stopped when he collided with Levi as they each rounded the corner of the house from opposing directions. Ben regained his footing first, and grabbed the lapels on the shooter's coat. "Why did you shoot my son?" Ben screamed as he shook the other man, until all he saw was a blur of white as the head of his son's murderer flew back and forth with the force of his fury. "How could you shoot a child?"

"Your son?" Levi screeched, looking up at his accoster in a daze, after he'd been sent flying to the ground with one mighty blow from the stranger. "The kid said you tossed him out…said he had no family no more," he whimpered as he rubbed his jaw and inched backward in the dirt. "Listen, mister," he avowed, holding up his hands in submissive fashion, "I didn't kill your kid. I was just playing a game with him that my pa used to play with me." Levi attempted a sleazy, placating smile before his tone turned accusatory. "The gun wouldn't have even gone off if _you_ hadn't startled me." The whining returned as he added, "But it was just powder; I promise it didn't hurt him. Probably scared the innards outta him, though." An eerie chuckle followed his assessment, and he started to get to his feet, as he nodded in Adam's direction. "Go on; go see him, he'll tell you it was all a game."

Ben wasn't convinced, but decided he needed to see Adam more than to question this sick bastard of a man any further. He grabbed Levi's pistol, barking at him to, "Stay put," and ran to his son. There was even more blood than there appeared to be from a distance. Adam's feet were covered with dirt-caked blood; his shirt sleeves were ripped, and long scratches striped the boy's arms with drying blood embedded with pebbles and glass shards. The stream coming from the side of his head was quickly saturating the blindfold, and adding to the muddy puddle under his head.

His earlier fear that survival was not possible overwhelmed him, but he was relieved when he saw Adam's ribcage moving in a rapid rhythm, even as the rest of his body trembled uncontrollably. Ben shot a quick thanks to heaven that in spite of the many injuries, his son was alive. He found out just how alive Adam was when he touched the boy's shoulder, eliciting an angry, high-pitched outburst.

"Kill me and get it over with," Adam screamed, while trying to move away by shimmying on his side like an injured rattler. After a few fruitless attempts, he whimpered an additional, "I mean please..please…just let me alone."

Ben tried to hold him…to soothe him with comforting words, but his embrace only served to make the boy moan in agony resembling the wail of a frightened rabbit. A quick flick of Ben's knife severed the rope tying Adam's hands, and he slipped the dirty neckerchief from his eyes. The response to being free was not what Ben expected either, as Adam swung on him and then tried to get away. His attempt at running ended when he fell after a single step, and he began to crawl and scrabble at the ground to move from where he was. Ben was rooted where he stood, stunned as he watched the odd reaction. He finally hollered, "Adam," and regaining his senses, ran to him and tried again to hold him while repeating his name. He finally turned Adam's face toward him, and said, "Son, you're safe!" He saw rationality replace the glazed, frightened look, and recognition gave way to relief as the child fell into his father's arms.

"Oh, Pa!" was all Adam said as he clung to his father and sobbed. After a time, and a few deep breaths, he finally added, "I didn't think you were ever coming."

Ben drew the boy to him again and this time he held on tight, and didn't let go until the tightness in Adam's shoulders relaxed. He finally asked, "What happened here?"

Adam pointed toward his ears. "I can't hear. There's a roaring in my head since the gun went off." He looked around furtively. "Where did Levi go?"

The tight set of his jaw, was the only outward indication of Ben's fury at what had happened to his son, and he leaned in to say, "He rode away, and I doubt he's coming back," before pulling the boy to him again and rocking him as he had when Adam was a toddler and needed comforting. Ben could feel that Adam was still trembling, and even though calmer, he still had the look of a frightened animal.

He was thankful that one thing Levi had said was true. The injury to Adam's head was a flash burn from the powder that had torn the flesh near his left eye. That wasn't to say it wasn't serious. The bleeding had slowed to an ooze of clear fluid, but Ben could see that Adam's eyelid on that side was drooping a bit. The rest of the injuries involved glass embedded in the cuts on Adam's feet and arms, and what he assumed were the rust flakes left behind when he'd fallen on the traps. He breathed easier after not finding indication that any of the massive traps had actually closed on a limb or flesh. He still didn't know the circumstances under which this had all happened, but from what Levi had said, it had all been part of some sick trial by fire, the man had called "games."

Leaning close to Adam's right ear, he said, "Let's get inside." Adam nodded, and Ben leaned in again to add, "The ringing will pass, son. It may take a little bit, but I promise it'll get better."

Ben stoked the fire to warm the room, and looked over at his sleeping son. He'd tried to hurry with the tending, but it had taken so long to fish out the bottle shards and debris from the wounds, and then give them all a good scrub, and bandage them with fabric he'd torn from the undershirt he'd put on that morning, that Adam had eventually, and from Ben's perspective, gratefully fallen into an exhausted sleep. He'd been snoozing for a few hours, and that seemed a good thing too.

After putting his horse up in the shed, and bringing more firewood to the house, Ben heated water to make coffee, and was cooking some of the jerky he had with him to make a weak broth for Adam to have when he woke up. He nearly upset the broth pot when Adam shot up into a sitting position; his eyes were wide and searching, his mouth, a tortured grimace. He groaned as he brought his hands up to cradle his head, and sank back onto the thin mattress.

His father was at his side in two steps. "You're safe, son. Can you hear better now? Are you in a lot of pain?"

He nodded. "The ringing's gone, but my head hurts," was whispered as a tear slid down his cheek. "Maybe everything hurts some."

Ben chuckled and wiped the wetness away with his thumb. "Can you tell me a little more now…I mean about what happened here?"

The words came out in gulps. "He came here, ate my food, stole my things …and then when I told him to leave…he said I was mouthy and needed to learn some manners. He said he'd teach me like his father taught him." Adam took a huge breath and sought his father's eyes. "Is that true? Is that why you didn't want me anymore, Pa? Did this happen to me because I'm so awful?"

The words stung Ben's heart and left his head hurting too, as he wondered what to say to make things right. Marie's words came to him: "Hold him as tight as you can for as long as it takes." He did just that, wrapping Adam in his arms as he spoke. "We're going to go over this one thing at a time. I've never lied to you, so you'll have to believe everything I say. Can you do that?"

Adam nodded again as he sniffed loudly, and settled his head onto his father's chest.

"First…I never wanted you to go. You overheard me teasing Marie. She told me to talk to you and find out why you wouldn't do as I asked, because you probably had a good reason. I said it would be better to send you away because _I'm_ not good at talking…or listening, so doing what she said wasn't going to be easy. I'm sorry. Sometimes parents make mistakes, and that was a big one." He tipped Adam's chin up and saw a glimmer of a grin.

"We…I have missed you every moment that you've been gone."

"What made you come out here?" Adam asked, his voice muffled by his father's shirt.

"The man who took your music box traded it to Slim, and I saw it there this morning. When Slim and I were thinking about where that crazy trapper might be staying, he mentioned that someone was living out here, and I knew it had to be you. Did you come here right away?"

Adam sat back and nodded. "I remembered there were things here I could use to help get me through the winter."

"That was smart. Your note said you wanted to prove yourself, and it seems like you were doing that just fine." Ben returned the smile his son was giving him. "Was Levi with you the whole time?"

The smile vanished. "He showed up yesterday morning. He said he'd leave once he rested, but he was still here when I got back from trapping, or actually he was here again. He'd left long enough to sell my things and had come back drunk and mean." Adam began to reveal the story of what had happened then, but stopped after telling about the first two blank shots.

Ben paled. "If all he did yesterday was to start the game of chance with his revolver, then all your injuries happened today?"

Adam's skin tone faded to match his father's, but he didn't answer.

"I saw the broken glass and the traps outside, and can pretty much figure out what happened," Ben said softly. "You don't have to say any more if you don't want to. On the other hand, telling about a bad thing can make it easier to figure out and learn from; you know, the whole two heads are better than one, idea?" He sat back against the wall, giving Adam room…and time to decide what to do next.

The room remained silent. The deepening shadows caused by the setting sun, and the peaceful quiet in the cabin gave no clue to the tumultuous struggle going on in Adam's mind. He'd set out to prove himself a man, and while he'd done that for most of the time he'd been gone, he'd been snared by an old drunkard, who'd made made a fool of him, and terrified him to point of wetting his pants when he thought he was about to die. His father hadn't mentioned it as he'd cleaned him up afterward, but he had to have noticed. The mental skirmish ended with his avowal. "Men don't whine about their problems, Pa. I'll have to live with what happened, and figure it out on my own."

Ben noted the lack of conviction in his son's voice, and chuckled with parental understanding and wisdom. "I can see everything you accomplished here, and I'll admit that most men couldn't have done such a good job. But the fact remains that you're twelve, and have a lot to learn about being a man. I know that you've shouldered a man's share of work since Inger died, son, and I appreciate it. I'm sorry your childhood was abbreviated."

He smiled, and reached out to touch Adam's shoulder. "Marie says that I am too anxious to have you grow up, and I'll regret it one day." He grinned and dropped his arm to his side again. "But since you're still a child…ah…a young man, you can rely on me, and tell me when you're not sure about something or when someone hurts you. I don't have all the answers; but I might have some."

More silence passed before Adam looked up and began to talk. "After he fired two empty chambers, he made me feed him again, and then he settled down and talked for half the night, telling me about his life. He rambled on about how tough it had been, and how his wife had left with their little boy, and he'd stopped caring about anything after that." He turned toward his father to explain. "If you're wondering why I didn't just get outta here at that point, he did all his talking with the pistol aimed at my chest. I'm sure he knew I'd run if he'd given me a chance, and when he finally started getting drowsy, he tied my hands behind my back, anchored the rope to the chair I was sitting on, and told me that I had to stay awake the rest of the night. He said it was a test…another part of the game…to see if I had the grit to do it."

The color in Adam's cheeks went from white to crimson, and his voice dropped to a whisper. "I tried to do it, Pa, but I couldn't. I don't even remember falling asleep."

"Did he hurt you today as a punishment for that?"

Adam took a few deep breaths before continuing. "When I woke up, he had his pistol pointed at my forehead, and said I'd disappointed him again, and that I'd have to show him that I was man enough for him to let me live."

Adam went from sighing to breathing rapidly, sounding like he was building up a head of steam to be able to go on with the story. "This game would be simple, he said, but it would show how much I'd come to trust him. Then he told me that trust was the highest form of respect and if I could do this, he'd know I'd come full circle from yesterday, and he'd leave. I can still see his mocking smile as he said I only had to get from the house to the shed without seeing where I was going or using my hands. My hands were still tied, and he took my boots off and blindfolded me, but he said he'd give me directions to make sure I'd come to no harm."

Adam sniffed, drawing his sleeve across his nose. "I should have known better. Levi hadn't been truthful about anything else, but I just wanted it over with." His sleeve was pressed into duty as a handkerchief again while he stared at the opposite wall.

"I had no idea I'd been asleep long enough for him to booby trap the path, so I was surprised when I stepped on something sharp and cut my foot." His body shuddered as he sighed. "I tried to turn around and get back to the house, but he was there with that gun in my back again, saying that I wasn't showing any guts or trust, so he pressed off another empty chamber."

"That was the third?"

He gave a quick nod and glanced over at his father—his earlier terror visible again as he began to tremble. "I realized right then that he'd set up that pistol so he'd go through all four empty ones until we got to the one that was loaded, and he wasn't leaving until he'd used it." Adam blinked several times, visualizing what had happened next. "I tried to run…to get away, but more glass cut into my feet and I fell again. Levi helped me up, and laughed like a loon as he started setting off the big traps he'd set up along the path, so I'd hear the clang as they closed. I was lucky I didn't step or fall into any of them, even though I fell _onto_ a couple." He sighed long and loud. "He fired off the last empty chamber when I screamed at him about him not ever living up to his word. I knew I was going to die then, and I had to do it trying. The blindfold had pushed up enough that I could see where I was going if I tilted my head back, so I took off toward the river. I thought if I could get there, I could lead him past one of _my_ traps where the marker never stayed up, and hope that he'd step in that one and…"

The trembling became so violent that the bed shook with its force. Adam brought his hands up to cover his face. "My feet wouldn't support me, Pa. Each step pushed the glass further in and he caught up when I fell again. The only thing I don't understand is how he could have missed me. That gun was behind my head when he pulled the trigger."

Ben got up and stoked the fire to add more light into the room, and then brought a chair over to sit directly in front of his son. After removing Adam's hands from his face, he lifted his chin. "He didn't miss. There wasn't a bullet in the fifth chamber either, just powder and a cap. I think it was the same for those traps. All the ones where you walked were closed. There were three off to the side; two were closed, and one still open. Those must be what he snapped shut to frighten you. From what I can tell, he wanted you to _think_ you were going to die, and he made it as real and painful as he could without doing any permanent harm."

Adam's mouth dropped open as his eyes rounded in question, and he cried out, "Why?"

"To him, it really was a game: a sick, ugly and horrible game. It gave him power over you, and he probably enjoyed seeing you become more fearful as it played out."

His eyes went as dark as the far corners of the room, while his cheeks flushed momentarily and then paled again. "I guess he made his point then; he proved me a coward."

Adam resisted his father's attempts to pull him closer, stiffening his arms and pushing away. Ben moved onto the bed again, rubbing his son's back. "You're not a coward, Adam. You never have been and you weren't today either. You answered every challenge he gave you, in spite of your uncertainty and fear. You even had a plan to fight back, and I believe you could have run him through your trap line just as you'd figured if your feet hadn't been injured." A little light began to shine in his son's eyes again. "And you notice who left in the end: _he_ ran off. He didn't stick around to defend his actions—even though he claimed to have a goal in his torment. When he was exposed, he had to face the fact that he was nothing more than a bully who'd taken advantage of a twelve-year-old, and still couldn't win."

Ben cleared his throat, and grinned. "And, son, cowardice is evidenced in our actions, not our reactions. I remember the first time I was aboard ship in a gale. We were battered for hours, and at one point, the wind caught our sails on the crest of a wave and pushed us down into the trough of the next roller. The shift brought the beam parallel to the wave, and the ship was at the brink of keeling over. We faced certain death if she didn't right herself, and I ended up having to toss my trousers overboard to avoid the embarrassment of washing them out." Adam was chuckling softly as Ben finished his thought. "It's natural to be afraid, son. What shows your strength is what you manage to do in spite of your fear. You'll learn and get better at dealing with terrible situations. That day I just mentioned, I changed my clothes, disposed of the 'evidence,' and went back on deck to do my job. It seems like you faced your keel-over moment too, and were still thinking of ways to keep going. That's all a man can ask of himself."

Adam released a long breath and leaned against his father's arm. "So why did Levi do this to _me_?"

"Because he could." Ben laughed at his son's bewildered expression.

"That's not an answer, Pa. I have to know why he picked me. _Am_ I mouthy and disrespectful? Is that why Marie threatened to leave? Maybe I deserved what I got."

Ben sighed as he considered how to give Adam the information he needed, while teaching his a few things about family accountability. "Hoss admitted telling you what he'd overheard, but as usual with eavesdropping; he didn't hear the whole story. It might be best if we all asked questions from now on when we're not sure of something." He waited for Adam to acknowledge his thought with a nod and then added, "Marie's threat was aimed at me because of something_ I_ said."

"What was that?"

"It's not important," his father growled.

"It is to me. How do I know she wasn't angry about something you told her about me?"

The older man smiled in the dark. The fact that Adam was starting to fight back was a good sign. "I pretty much told her to mind her own business when she asked me why I was so angry with you. When I explained, she said to mind _my own business_, because you two were doing just fine. She also said that if I wouldn't trust her to share my concerns about you boys, then she would leave me." Ben noticed that the spark in Adam had vanished and the boy's head had dropped to his chest. "If we're going to get through this, then you have to be honest too, son. What's bothering you?"

He looked up as he confessed, "I thought I was going to die today, and you wouldn't even know…or care."

Ben knew he'd tried to find his child, but trying was not the same as succeeding. "I suspected that you'd do exactly what you were doing here, but my year away meant I didn't know you as well as I once did. This was the perfect option for you, and yet I didn't know until today that you'd been out here. I trusted you to be careful, and the only place I could imagine you staying safe was on the Ponderosa, so that's where I looked for you…every day you were gone."

He checked to see if his words were being accepted. Adam's face was still set in a deep frown, although he looked less haunted. "I'm sorry for missing so much of your life, and for taking so long in getting here, but I promise you that I will always come for you—no matter how old you are or how long I have to look."

"You know I never meant to hurt Marie by not calling her, 'Mother,' and I was on my way downstairs to explain why to both of you that night I heard you say you didn't want me around," Adam offered contritely. "I just can't do it: not because I don't like her or don't accept her place in our family. It's just that I made a promise…"

Ben took Adam's hand as he broke in, "She always knew why, son, and I did too…eventually." He noticed that his child was looking so worn that he was beginning to worry, yet he knew he needed to finish this conversation so Adam would rest. "To finish up, let me assure you that you are not 'mouthy.' You are intelligent beyond your years; you have strong opinions, and possess the same hard head as I do. You say what you need to, and won't take guff from anyone, so at times you seem pretty danged forceful for a kid your age. But you are one of the kindest and most generous people I have ever known: your mother, Inger and Marie being the others at the top of my list."

"So if I'm not mouthy like Levi claimed, then why _did_ he do this?"

The tired father remained mute as he thought through his response. "You were here without parents to protect you, and he was bigger than you, conniving, and had a weapon to back his words. He took advantage of the situation."

"You're right," Adam admitted.

Ben chuckled. "It seems like you've learned a few things from this. As to Levi…there are people who have gone through hell in their lives, and it's especially bad when it comes at the hands of someone they should have been able to trust. When I ran into him outside, he said he was only playing the same sorts of games his father had done with him."

"He said the same thing to me."

"It's hard for me to understand how a father could mistreat his child, but on the other hand, each person decides how they'll deal with what they've gone through. Some who've come from abusive pasts, vow never to harm another as they were. But others," Ben sighed heavily, "well, maybe their minds are so damaged from the torment that they're not right in the head. Instead of abhorring evil, they become even more expert at creating it. I believe that these people are in constant war with themselves. They know what it feels like—the pain, fear, and confusion it causes—and they still indulge in it. They must also know that their actions are cowardly, because they were firsthand observers of the cowards who hurt them."

"I saw that in Levi when he was drinking. He'd be nicer one minute, and more horrible the next." He looked over at his father. "Will the same thing happen to me?"

Ben's laughter filled the small room. "You will never be like him. You're a reasoning child who will become a reasoning man. You will weigh the effects of your actions, and do what's right. You have more courage and know better who you are at twelve, than Levi does at whatever age he is." Ben watched as his son's face relaxed and softened into a slight smile. "You already want to know why things happen; to understand them so you don't repeat them. You're back out on deck facing the storm, just as I did."

"Thanks, Pa. I suppose I'll meet lots of men like Levi."

"You might." Ben laughed and then became serious again. "There're a lot of people out there who aren't right in the head, and some are even worse than Levi. Some are pure evil, and have no reason for their actions. It's more who they are than something they do, and you never know what will set them off, or how far they'll go to prove something that only they understand." Ben realized he was going too far with his explanation, and stopped abruptly. He reached over and tousled Adam's hair. "I know this is hard to understand, but Levi knew he was doing harm, and in some corner of his soul, he feels guilt and shame for what he did to you." He clapped his hands together. "Let's have some of the broth I cooked up, and then settle in for the night. If you're up to it, we'll ride double to Slim's, pick up the wagon at first light, and we'll be home by lunch time.

Hoss saw the wagon pulling into the yard from the window in his room, and ran down the steps, hollering, "Adam's home!"

Marie followed the stampeding child out the door, but stopped as she saw the hunched over, bandaged child sitting next to her husband on the wagon seat. Swallowing hard to stem the tears, she took a deep breath, smiled, and continued out to greet them.

Ben noted the questions in his wife's eyes, and leaned in for a quick kiss on the cheek and a whispered, "I'll explain later," as he made his way around the wagon.

Hoss had climbed up to the seat, and was hanging onto his brother, not seeming to notice the strips of bandage wound around his head and feet, as his words of welcome flowed. "Gosh it's good to see ya, Adam. It's about time Pa found you and brought ya back! Why'd you leave anyway? You scared me half-to-death when you did that, so promise you won't never go away again."

Adam hugged his brother back, even though his grimace gave proof that his wounds were still causing considerable grief. He pushed Hoss away enough to clamp a hand over the boy's mouth and laugh. "I'd forgotten how noisy it is with you around, but I admit I missed you." A grunting groan blew from his lips as Hoss went in for another round of hugging, and Adam tried again to create a little distance between them. "So if I can't 'never' leave home again, does that mean I can't get married, or go anywhere ever?"

Well, a course you can leave when you get old like Pa is, but not until then."

Adam laughed, "I'll just check with you before I plan anything. Will that do?"

Ben broke up the reunion. "Come away, Hoss. I need to get your brother in the house now. He's pretty worn out." After a few tentative steps leaning on his father's arm, Adam bent over to catch his breath and kept going by walking on the sides of his feet. When even those steps began to falter, his father picked him up and carried him, explaining to a stricken-looking Marie, "He had glass in his feet, and I don't think I got it all out. We'll take a better look and redo the bandages when I get the wagon done."

"Take him to the table," she ordered once they got inside. "Hoss and I were just about to have lunch when you got here, and you both look like you could use a good meal before we start any doctoring." Marie dispatched her husband and Hoss to take care of the wagon and store their supplies, so they could all enjoy lunch without worrying about getting back outside to finish. With the house cleared, she walked to the chair and embraced Adam, kissing both his cheeks. Her expression was stern as she held his shoulders and looked directly into his eyes. "Like your brother said, 'don't you never leave us again,' young man. I have come to be very fond of you." The glare dissolved and was replaced by a grin and a wink, as she continued, "And I am a very possessive woman." When he blushed, she busied herself checking the wound under the bandage on his forehead.

As his color returned to normal, she sat next to him and took his hand. "I know I'm not your mother, Adam, and I won't ever try to be, but that doesn't mean I can't love you and gather you under my wing. Good mothers through all time have wanted what's best for their children. Since your mother would have been one of the best, I believe Elizabeth would be happy that you will have someone watching after you—at least for a few more years." Marie waited a moment to gage his reaction. When he looked up at her, and smiled, she continued. "You won't forget your own mother by getting to know me, and accepting a little of my attention or affection."

He looked down at his hands. "I know."

"I imagine I was a pretty big surprise, and I do understand that it will take some time before you know whether you can really trust me. I think we were doing quite well before your father's worrying got in the way." She leaned in close. "This all started because he worries too much…and doesn't listen enough. I think I may have cured him of that or at least started him on the road to doing better."

Adam grinned. "You always stand up to Pa. It was the first thing I liked about you."

"So there is something about me that you like?"

The blush deepened again as he picked at a loose thread on his shirt. "I like you just fine, and appreciate how much you do for us…me. My argument with Pa was never about you; I told him that. He couldn't understand why if I liked you, I still couldn't call you what he wanted me…" His voice trailed off as his doubts about being home again surfaced, and clouded his return. Pa had said that both he and Marie understood what had prompted his refusal to obey. Yet an uneasy feeling was nagging him that maybe those words had been a ploy to get him home, and the war of wills would see more battles. Would Marie's next words assure him that Elizabeth wouldn't mind him using her rightful title either?

The possibility that his month away would prove pointless deflated him. He slid down in the chair, and looked away as his face flushed hot, and the exhaustion of the last three days set in hard.

Marie noted the change in his demeanor. After stirring the pot of soup that was warming on the stove, she returned to stand behind him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, kissing the top of his head. "Let's not spend any more time on what happened before; we'll start fresh. So how about you call me Marie for now." Retaking her chair, she added with a laugh, "I remember one of the nuns at the convent school had a very difficult name. She was Sister Emerentiana, and most of the children couldn't pronounce it. She used to laugh and say, 'You can call me anything, dears, just don't call me late to dinner.' That'll be our rule too."

Adam sat up, breathed deeply, and smiled. "I'd like that…Marie." He looked around the small kitchen, feeling the warmth of the cook stove as well as sensing the warmth from the woman who was with him. The warning voices he'd heard minutes earlier disappeared, and he relaxed fully for the first time since he'd slipped out the back door a month ago. "It's really good to be home."

**Epilogue – 1862 (Completing the journey from hell)**

Adam trudged on through the heat, remembering how his father had found him when Levi had played his ugly "games," and then had helped him make some sense of the ordeal. The difference with Levi was that he'd been driven by pain from the brutality he'd experienced himself. Adam couldn't figure out what drove Peter Kane. Kane set himself up as judge, jury and executioner, without ever reading the charges against the accused. The secret verdict had been handed down and Adam had done hard time while he'd waited for the execution. His earlier experience with Levi had helped him survive long enough to escape Kane's prison, but not the death sentence.

He'd made it home when he was 12, but he knew a happy ending wasn't possible—this time. _Nope, this time Pa can't help me, even though he promised he would always find me_. _He came so close to doing it again, but not close enough_. _Yet I'm glad he's safe on and the way home_. He signed deeply as the conclusion to this odyssey sunk in with blinding clarity.

The noose was tightening, and he was plunging through the trapdoor toward eternity_. _The muscles in his neck, legs and arms were trembling and cramping, and his heart was beating irregularly, leaving him woozy and sick to his stomach. He grimaced as he pictured the possibility that instead of being welcomed into the gates of heaven in a few minutes, he'd be eternally condemned to pounding in sticks of dynamite, and carrying bags of worthless debris from a cave while Kane sat outside maligning his efforts and accusing him of being a slackard. _Now that would be hell, _he concluded as he began chuckling at the irony of it.

The wry smile and eerie laughter continued even when he heard what sounded like voices and horses moving toward him. His exhaustion was so complete that he didn't have the strength or curiosity to look, and he lowered his head as he continued walking toward a suitable place where two men might return to the dust from which they came.

Dying didn't bother him as much as losing his sanity, especially now. _Please let me leave this life with a clear mind_, he prayed. It wasn't to be, and he sighed hopelessly as he experienced the final insult: hallucinating that his father and brothers had arrived. He made one last attempt to justify what was happening._ It's logical that I'd want my family with me now._ But they brought him no comfort as the mirages kept hollering his name. _This isn't how I want to remember them_, he screamed mentally, as he left the pallet behind—crawling first—then trying to run from the angry-sounding voices, hoping to find a last, peaceful connection to his family…and his sanity_. _

But then he felt the pain of their touch on his sunburned skin; he breathed deeply and smelled the dust and sweat on their clothes, and with a final leap of faith, he decided they were truly there. He wouldn't die alone after all, and he wanted to tell them how glad that made him—to explain—to thank them for coming, but all that would come out was, "There was no gold!" He focused on his father and laughed as he struggled to put his agony into words that would convey what he'd been through: something his father would understand. "And no more…no more games…no more games."

He felt his father's strong hands on his arms and heard him holler, "Adam!" Looking directly at his father's face, he saw the sweat trickling down Ben's temples, and in that moment, Adam knew he was safe. Despite being in a forsaken wasteland, and even if he died here…he was home. The games were over. His life…his sanity…were confirmed in his father's eyes. "Oh, Pa," he sobbed as his legs buckled. The physical and mental agony of what he'd been through flowed from his soul as he wept. He felt Joe's fingers wetting his lips while he speculated on what sort of hell his brother had faced. After a drink from the canteen, he melted into his father's embrace, and held on tight, intending to stay there for as long as it took to find enough of his own strength to let go.

The End.

(1) At the time this story is set, the Truckee River hadn't even been officially discovered, and was at first called the Salmon and Trout River. In fact, there was no Carson City or Virginia City, and the territory the Cartwrights were homesteading in belonged to Utah, not Nevada. Settlers were making their way west, but very few people had crossed the Sierras at this time, and the California Gold Rush, the event that really opened the west to settlers and treasure seekers, was still a few years away. However, Bonanza Canon does show Ben in New Orleans talking about having boys back in Virginia City (even though it wouldn't be named that for another almost 20 years at the beginning of Comstock silver strike.) I don't call the settlement where the Cartwrights go, Virginia City, but rather the "trading post or town." I have a few people already settling there and a few houses springing up around the trading post. There would have been trapping going on, and I'd assume there were trading posts in what would become Carson City and Virginia City.

Bonanza fans know that back when the writers were creating Bonanza, they had no idea that the series would run for the next 50+ years. They also had no idea that the computer age would allow people to look up facts with blazing speed and accuracy, and watch the episodes in stop-action to glean every detail. What I like to do is honor history, while still honoring the spirit of the canon and the wonder that was Bonanza.

The other thing I'd like to address is the character of Marie. She was presented differently in different Bonanza episodes. But in _Marie, My Love_, we see her as a hostess in a very classy men's club, but not a fallen dove sort of woman working in a saloon. Her "indiscretion" is shown to have been a lie: a setup, orchestrated by her mother-in-law, and allowed to stand by a weak husband who didn't believe her or fight for her innocence. She is presented as educated (the scene in the convent garden where she tells Ben she was raised and taught) and she's cultured (knows fencing and can ride) and demure. I chose to use this Marie for my story. Also from _Marie, My Love_, although she is said to be of French Creole descent, she does not have an accent or use French phrases, so I don't have her speak that way. I wondered why they didn't have her seem a little more French, but they didn't, so I didn't push it either. And finally, there is the thought in some fanfiction that Adam and Marie didn't get along. This is based somewhat in a scene where Ben says that Marie loved all three boys as her own, and Adam makes a face that's been interpreted as , "Yeah sure," and "I regret I didn't think that," to "Whoa boy, she was a fox." But I've watched it and don't see animosity, just a sad resignation. So I prefer to think that if there was conflict it came from the fact that Adam had been very independent before she got there, and he didn't need mothering. But I have him appreciate her and come to trust, admire and even love her in the way he could. I also think Adam's conflict over not knowing his mother would have resulted in him making a sacred promise to Elizabeth similar to the one he makes in this story.


End file.
